


Vision

by JackTheSoldier



Series: The Five Senses of Soldiers [1]
Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Historical RPF, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Francis is a Bitch, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2020-07-23 14:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 55,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20009788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackTheSoldier/pseuds/JackTheSoldier
Summary: "I was sent off to the military as punishment.""That's a bitch reason. What'd you do?"He turned onto his side to face his friend. "I was me."





	1. One

**VISION**

noun

vi·sion | \ ˈvi-zhən \

## Definition Of Vision

1 : the act or power of seeing : SIGHT 

_________

He had never been more uncomfortable in his life. The past six months had been hell. Since coming out as gay to his family and then explaining that he wanted to be an artist, everything had spiraled downhill. He still wasn't sure he would ever be used to the awfully low cut on his hair. He missed the options he had with long hair. 

John was sure that on this bus taking him to the 'elite military academy', as his father had called it, he would get sick. It was disgustingly dirty and stuffy. I mean, South Carolina Summers we're usually bad enough but put him in a bus with no AC and no way to open the windows and he might just get sick from heatstroke. 

He couldn't believe his luck and how poor it was, though. Absolutely awful. Not only that, but he hadn't had time to upload a blog update saying where he was going before his dad shoved him from the door just hours ago. 

John's blog consisted of a lot of controversial rants about the military and politics and schools, but sometimes he uploaded softer topics. But now it would seem like he was dead. He was going unplugged. 

The bus came to a rattling stop and the doors squealed open. John grabbed his bag he was allowed and marched off the bus, waving a quick, half-hearted thanks to the driver. 

Immediately, camp seemed chaotic. People running drills, yelling, sounds of gunshots, whistles, boots clattering against wood or rock or dirt in various places. As John stared around, he hardly noticed the man walking in front of him until he was almost running into him. 

"Hey! Watch where you step! You might just step on my boots!" A redheaded man scolded and John flushed with color. 

Mistake number one. 

"I'm so sorry! I didn't realize—" He began to apologize, but was quickly cut off. That was his second mistake: trying to apologize before he saw who he was addressing and sizing up. He should hold his tongue. Don't be awkward. Don't be _you_. Not here. 

"Colonel Hamilton! Don't scold the new private yet! He hasn't even begun basic training!" 

The source of the booming baritone voice was a man who had to be six feet and four inches. He was tall, stiff, burly... Women would faint over this man, John was certain. Maybe he would too if he wasn't careful... The intimidating figure with gray hair shaved like the others into a buzz cut was stepping nearer. 

His name... The nametag displayed G. WASHINGTON, and his number of badges suggested a high rank. Was this the General John heard so much about? 

A man roughly five foot and five inches stepped around the tall man and stood in front of John. "Identification, please? Passport, papers, driver's license... You should've researched enough to know what I need now." T. TILGHMAN. Sandy blond hair, a few inches shorter than John, but still taller than the man he nearly ran over. 

Speaking of which... "You're Private John Laurens? Son of Henry Laurens, the senator of South Carolina?" The redhead asked. His hair was curly and formed little baby curls atop his head. It was adorable and charming and John wanted to stare at him all day. 

Freckles, indigo-violet eyes, short red hair, and he should really stop wondering how much skin his freckles covered and he should pull his eyes back up. He was met with a glare. 

"Well, Private?" 

"Yes, sir. I'm so sorry, I just was confused and—" 

"Yes, yes, quit blathering. Colonel Tilghman will get your information set up and you can come with me. Your clothes right now aren't going to cut it." 

"I take it wearing a blue flannel and jeans isn't welcome here?" 

"Cut the humor, Laurens. It won't get you far here." 

_Welcome to the depths of hell_ , he remembered seeing on a sign on his flight into southern California. _Home to the UNITED STATES MILITARY BASE of SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA - USHB._

Nicknamed by the government for the wasteland and desert the base was in, United States Hell Base. 

He could feel the resemblance. 

He had truly gone to Hell for being gay. 


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world works in mysterious ways, and sometimes, you need to dig through the dirt to find the gold.

The stall was almost too small for John to change in. Colonel Hamilton had insisted he change outside to avoid discomfort, but John, ever the modest man, decided to change in the stall. 

He pulled on the beige pants and tied them comfortably tight against his waist. Then he tucked his white tank top and camouflage into his pants and then buttoned up the collar. He double-checked himself carefully. 

J. LAURENS, his tag read. Soon he would also get dogtags in case his suit and body became mangled beyond recognition. He recalled why that began. Soldiers during the American Civil War saw their fellow men being undistinguishable after battles from the effect of the new mini balls, so they slipped papers with their names on them into their pockets to be sure they could be respected properly. Now, war was explosive and worse than before, and it made sense to have dogtags of metal around your neck to be distinguishable after fighting. The horrible truth. 

If only his brother and sisters could see him now. Going into military school with a uniform and soon to be schooled and sent into battle. Honor, glory, freedom, and as usual, murder for no reason. The United States could be fucked up sometimes. Vietnam, the World Wars, the entire Cold War and Korean affairs... All of it was a lie and a setup for money or panic or whatever the hell the government wanted to do. John never knew and he didn't care to know. He didn't want to be involved in that shitstorm. 

"Private Laurens, is this going to take all day or am I going to have the opportunity to introduce you to your bunkmates?" Hamilton's voice startled John from his little daze and he hit his head leaning down to grab his boots. He grunted and rubbed the spot and pushed the door open instead of struggling his boots on in the stall. 

Hamilton looked him up and down with a pleased smile. He carefully took a wrinkle in his shirt between his index finger and thumb and then smoothed it out. The words stitched into the fabric stuck out in yellow. J. Laurens. Private John Laurens. Yes. This sounded right. 

"Okay. Shoes on. Let's go," Hamilton encouraged. John stumbled to his knees and started to put on his boots. He tucked in the laces and all. 

He stood back up. "You said I had bunkmates?" 

"Of course you do. All men have at least one bunkmate. You happen to have three. Tallmadge, White, and Kinloch. White has been here the longest so he'll show you the ropes, but the other two... I have almost no experience with them," the redheaded Colonel began to say. John almost choked at the names. 

Kinloch!? Francis Kinloch? His ex-boyfriend from Charleston who was an absolute stick-up-his-ass pray-the-gay-away racist ass bitch!? God, he hoped not. Francis had threatened to out John if he didn't give him the fancy, expensive things he wanted. John had finally gotten tired of it and learned that Francis had legitimately no evidence or blackmail when they broke up. The thought of seeing his ex made him want to... Well, he was already in the worst punishment on Earth right now, so he couldn't think of anything worse than this. 

And White... John White. A kid friend since second grade who remained friends until John switched schools in grade nine. John and Jack. White and Laurens. Together again. But... He hadn't seen him in so long, and there had been no attempt to keep contact at all, so what if there was some bad blood between them... Fuck. 

But Benjamin Tallmadge... Was a foreign name. It sounded friendly. John immediately liked him. 

"Hey, Laurens! Focus!" Hamilton shouted. 

"Uhm, yes, sir!" He snapped to attention. 

________

The bunks were... Strange. Just a long cabin, er... Warehouse, structure, with bunk beds on either side and no clear markers for bunkmates. John saw crudely built drawers under the lower bunks, no doubt for storing personal items. As Hamilton led him along, he saw people start to stare. Some had badges and hats and other colors to distinguish rank. 

John felt out of place. Like he shouldn't be here. 

"Bunks A-R-dash-1-triple-seven, stand at attention at the base of your bunks! I have a Private for you all to meet!" Hamilton shouted and three men scrambled to their feet. 

Francis Kinloch held a lit cigarette in his mouth. Newly lit, too. John White was correcting his posture as Hamilton got closer. The last man who John could only assume was Benjamin Tallmadge was fidgeting. 

Hamilton stepped directly in front of Kinloch and stared into his ivy green eyes. Kinloch was a good four inches taller at five foot eight inches tall, but Hamilton made up for his height in confidence and the power to make others fear him. 

"Smoking in bunkareas is not permitted, Kinloch. And to my knowledge," Hamilton paused to snatch the cigarette from his mouth. "Smoking is not allowed anywhere on camp grounds without explicit permission. This is a second warning, Kinloch. One more and you're going back to DJJ." 

Francis glared at John as he puffed out his smoke in a cloud directly into his face. Francis knew John hated cigarette smoke. 

"White, good posture, but next time, please be fully dressed and operational when I call your code. Boots and all." 

John hadn't even noticed, but yes, his old friend was shoeless. Socks, but no shoes. 

"And Benjamin Tallmadge. Perfect in every way, as usual. Has the doctor diagnosed you with anything yet?" Hamilton asked and looked at his fidgety fingers. 

"No, sir. Doctor Warren has not diagnosed me yet. I have not found time to visit him due to my accelerated schedule." 

"I expect a diagnosis in one week, Captain. Fidgety hands may not be best for a trigger. We don't need a misfire." Hamilton beckoned Laurens closer. "Gentlemen, this is Private John Laurens, your new bunkmate. Get to know each other. Training begins at oh-eight-hundred tomorrow." 

The redhead left them again. 

John was left with... This. 

Kinloch spoke up first. "You take Tallmadge's lower bunk then, Jack." 

"I'd prefer you not to call me that, Frank," John immediately retorted. 

Francis froze. "Oh? Unfortunately for you, Jack Laurens, I'm a Captain and you're a Private. Therefore, I am a rank higher and I can call you whatever I please." 

"I'm a Major and I command you to respect Laurens' wishes," White spoke up. 

They began bantering and John began to set up his things under his bunk and lay down. All he'd need was sleep, he was certain. 

Hell might be tolerable with White here to defend him. 

_______

Eight in the morning, on the dot, the alarms went off, camp-wide. The familiar trumpet John had thought was fake. It was, in fact, a real thing they used to wake up the soldiers. 

John was hopping on one foot, tying the other boot, as he moved. He reached the training field right on time, though. 

And a man with dark, almost mud-brown hair, had a whistle. Hamilton stood beside him as they gathered men into a row. Seven by three. Twenty-one men in one group. Two people drilling per group. 

The brown-haired man, whose nametag read J. FITZGERALD, blew his whistle. The soldiers began to jog in place. No warning. No waiting. No explanation. They just went. 

John followed suit, no matter how much he was confused. 

Then another whistle and everyone dropped to the ground in a single pushup then returned upright and jogging. In sync. 

"Oh Dear Lord," John mumbled to himself. 

A high-pitched whistle which seemed to take zero effort from Fitzgerald, but John knew he must've had to be broken in, too. 

Their feet slipped back behind them again, throwing their bodies to the dirt. 

A single pushup. 

They heaved themselves into standing. 

Run. 

Whistle. 

Drop. 

Pushup. 

Stand. 

Run. 

He could feel the heat now. The heat of the sun glaring down at them, like the heat and lights of an oven baking cookies. It made him begin to gasp and his breath stuttered a few times, but he went on. Sweat like lead rolled down his face and back, onto the fabric of his shirt. It gathered above his eyes in lines, and every time he creased his brow to focus, the salty sweat slid into his eyes. He wheezed and tried to go on, focusing, keeping pace with the others, who he knew were more experienced. 

That damned shrill whistle. 

A drop to strip the heel of his hands of skin. 

The heavy pushup. 

Standing. 

"Faster, Laurens!" Hamilton shouted. 

John picked up his knees in his in-place jogging and took deeper breaths. 

Whistle. Repeat the cycle. Jog. 

"Faster, Laurens! Do it with the others!" Hamilton was in front of him yelling, now. He was yelling at _him_. Only him. 

Whistle. Down. Pushup. Stand. Jog. Repeat. 

"FASTER!" 

By now, John was wheezing, and these baggy clothes weren't helping his sweating. It didn't sound like many other people were doing this exercise anymore. Was he being tricked? Publicly humiliated? 

Fuck. What if his father told them that he's gay? 

"FASTER, JOHN! GO!" Whistle. Stand. "GO!" Whistle. Stand. "I SAID _GO!_ " 

He could hardly breathe. The sweat dripped down his nose and onto the dirt and made a darkened splotch. 

"GO! I'VE SEEN CHILDREN DO THIS FASTER!" 

John practically collapsed at the next whistle. He didn't bother to get up this time. 

Another whistle. It was met with silence and a muttered sentence from one of the others. 

A boot nudged John in the cheek. Another whistle. 

"Hey. Carolina boy. You. Blondie. Laurens. I said to go. That means, go! Harder. Push harder. You're not fucking done yet. Why are you even here if you're this weak?" Hamilton asked sarcastically. 

John mumbled something into the ground. 

"Pardon?" Hamilton knelt down to him. 

"I didn't choose to be here, damnit!" John spat and shakily started to sit up. "Fuck! I didn't want to go to a damn military academy! I didn't fucking want law or medical school! I want to fucking go home already because I can't do this!" He didn't bother to wipe the dirt from his face and arms. "I want to go home! I feel like I'm in hell! I didn't choose to be here! I don't choose anything I do and I'm sick of it!" 

Hamilton looked surprised. Pleased, almost. He leaned closer and patted John on the shoulder. "That'll do for today, Laurens. Go get washed up. Tomorrow I push you hard again." 


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lesson in bunkchat and awkwardness.

"This is the shower line?" 

"Sure is. Some men just get tired of waiting so long and give up. Some haven't showered in weeks. It's a fucking mess, our sanitary measures," Benjamin, he learned his name was, explained. 

John groaned and followed Ben to the back of a rather long line of men all standing to take showers in muddy, ragged, sweaty, or all of the above kinds of uniforms. Some had cuts from barbed wires. Some had higher ranks than others, varying from Privates to Captains or Majors. It seemed to cap out at Majors. Perhaps the highest ranked men had private washrooms? Perhaps, he thought, perhaps. 

"I have to warn you, Laurens—" 

"John. Call me John. You might as well if we're gonna be bunkmates now." 

Benjamin faltered, like he hadn't expected this. "Uhm... Okay then. John. I have to warn you." 

"Of what, exactly?" John asked, fidgeting slightly with his clean uniform. His current one was covered in dust from Colonel Hamilton's rougher-than-usual training. 

"Well... Uhm... You know how people say that soldiers become acquainted with each other's bodies because they've been in the military together and stuff? Well... The shower will explain that. It's cold and... You'll see," Ben sighed and had what seemed like a flustered expression on his face. The pair shuffled forward in line. 

"There's... Covers, right? Like doors? I've seen the show _M.A.S.H._ and they have doors in their camp and that was during the Korean Conflict, so—"

"John, the military is both underfunded and overfunded. The thing about them paying for kids' college? It's bullshit. The money all goes to the wrong places. And it sure as hell doesn't go to our showers. It's just a fucking hut with pipes and cold water. The military will harden anybody up. 

"You know how people are always pushing for fireworks on the fourth of July to stop because of soldiers with PTSD? You'll understand why when you're sent into battle or sniper training. This shit is the thing that turns boys into men and men into boys. This shit is the thing you'll be remembering for the rest of your life. How old are you?" 

He paused to think about it. "Twenty three." 

"Lucky bastard compared to General La Fayette, General Washington, or Colonel Hamilton. La Fayette has been doing this since he was nineteen. Washington has been in two wars and started at twenty. Now he's in his forties. Hamilton started at twenty, just a little kid, and he was sent off to his first fight a month into training and he hasn't been the same since. 

"I've only been here for a month, but shit, John, I've already learned that this fucking bitch of a military system is fucked up." 

"I've known. Done extensive research. I guess I only scratched the surface, huh?" 

"You're about to find out," Ben sighed. His rant had taken long enough that now, they were at the front of the line. Ben was standing in front of John. 

A man walked out in his same, ragged uniform he walked in with. It was probably his cleanest, though. John wouldn't judge. 

"Wish me luck." 

"Good luck." 

He disappeared into the showering 'hut', as he had said. 

A few minutes later and another man stepped out. John stepped in. 

Good Lord, save him. John Laurens was too gay and unprepared for the sight he saw. 

_______

"John? John, are you okay? You've been really quiet since your shower and I'm kind of concerned." Ben was leaning over the side of his bed to see John's face, staring blankly at the wood frame of their bunk, silently wishing he could wipe the memory from his mind of so many naked men forever. 

"I think... I never want to shower again." 

Ben gave a slight smile, sighed, and shook his head. "Oh, John. I was the same way. Perhaps you and I aren't so different? Where are you from?" 

John turned his head slightly to face Ben's curious gaze. "Columbia. South Carolina. Born and raised. My father is a senator." 

Ben looked impressed. "Oh, S.C.! You're a southern guy! I'm from up North near N.Y.C., born in a place called Brookhaven but raised in Setauket. It's on Long Island." 

John grinned and propped himself up on his elbows to look closer at Ben. Brown hair. John has always envied brown hair. His whole close family has brown hair, and they always joked about John being the odd one out. It may have been light-hearted to them, but their words cut deeper than they know. John's multiple requests to his father to have his hair dyed were always denied. 'Why?' Henry Laurens would always ask, 'What good reason do you have?' and John always answered 'None. I'm sorry I asked. I won't ask again.', but he would. He would ask again. And every time, Henry would get more and more upset about it. 

"What's your favorite hobby?" Ben asked, snapping him from his second long daze. 

"Oh, uhm... I like writing and drawing. I actually want to be an artist one day. That's what I wanted my career to be. What about you?" 

"I like debate club. Y'know that club in high school that not many people took? I was the leader of it. I like debates and stories. Like fairy tales, I guess. I know it sounds stupid, but when I was little, my dad would always read me stories at night to tuck me into bed. The want to read stories has never really left me." 

John listened to him closely and found himself yearning for a relationship like that. A father like that. His mother would read him books and stories, yes, but after she passed away when he was young, he didn't have stories read to him. His father said it was too childish and he should grow up. His father never read him books or played with him. Never cared to help him with his math or lend another set of hands to his science fair project. John yearned for Ben's kind of relationship. 

"What's home like to you, John? Not physical, but emotional. What makes you happy and comforts you, no matter what?" 

The question was sudden, but John decided Ben had the best of intentions with it. 

"You know the feeling when somebody, your favorite person, says they see you as their best friend in the world? Or when somebody you love gets home after a really long trip? That feeling when you hug a childhood friend you haven't seen in years? Or the smile you make when the Morning Glories open up, or a hot day ends with a cool rainstorm? The feeling of nature, pure and raw nature, surrounding you and it's so new and bright and free? The feeling of watching a sunset from a tree over the tops of the others. That feeling makes me feel home. And happy. And good." 

Ben was nearly in tears at the speech. 

"Well, well. He's back on his soapbox. I dated you, Jackie, for two years and Lord, you spoke half the time, I'm certain," Kinloch's voice cut through the moment and John felt his stomach twist from warm to ice cold. Kinloch still hated him. After years, he still hated him. 

"Kinloch, please. Jack has done nothing wrong," White responded. 

"Please don't call me anything but my last name, Kinloch. Please." 

"Fuck you, Jack. I'll do whatever I fucking please." He tugged a cigarette from his boot as he sat down on his bed and a lighter from under it. He lit the cigarette, but couldn't see Colonel Hamilton enter the space, likely just to patrol and keep order, from where he sat. But John and Ben could and they didn't warn him. 

Soldiers started to gather and stand and salute at the foot of their bunks. John and Ben both got out of bed to bed ready to stand at attention. White was ready. By now, Francis Kinloch was puffing of his cigarette like a baby to its mother's breast and he had pulled his uniform shirt off. 

Step, step, step. Two bunks down. 

Step, step... Pause. Ben and John now stood at attention and White snapped into it as well. But Francis was too late. Colonel Hamilton had already seen. 

"FRANCIS KINLOCH!" He cried. Hamilton was obviously furious. 

In a startled and futile attempt to hide his deeds, Francis dropped his cigarette on the ground and crushed it out with his boot. Too late, though. 

"Francis Kinloch, I demand you come with me this instant and I will take you straight to General Washington himself to explain that you are to return to the Department of Juvenile Justice's hands immediately! Perhaps they will finally move you to a REAL jail!" Hamilton berated as Francis gathered his things and rushed to follow him out the door. Hamilton had grabbed the evidence of the cigarette and was roughly shoving Francis out the door. 

Silence followed for a moment. And then things were back to normal. 

"About goddamn time. I hated the smoking he did," White sighed and his shoulders sagged in a relieved way. 

"You had to sleep over it! No wonder!" Ben puffed out his own breath. 

"Speaking of sleep..." John yawned and fell backward onto his bunk. He carefully pulled off his boots and uniform, folded it, and started to retire to bed. 

"Goodnight, John. Sweet dreams." 

"Goodnight, Jack." 

"Goodnight, you two." 

An eventful day one. 


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betcha.

John woke with a jolt at the sound of the horn blowing over loudspeakers to wake everyone up. He quickly regretted his action to startle and when he sat up—

There was an awful cracking sound when his head collided with the crossbar above him.

He fell back to the pillow on his bed with a cry of pain. Since he'd been sleeping on his stomach and tried to get up too fast, he had essentially smashed the back of his head against the bunk bed frame, producing sharp pain and a deafening cry. After a moment of whimpering into his pillow, he heard a familiar voice. 

"John? Are you okay? Is something wrong?" 

Opening his eyes to look at Ben, he betrayed himself. His expression clearly displayed his hurt. 

"You hit your head," Ben sighed and started to climb down the frame holding their beds together and immediately moved to look at John. 

"'m okay for training." 

"Well, I'm still gonna check. You never know. If it's bad, I'll take you to the doctor. If you really think it's okay, I'll let you get dressed and go to training." Ben let his fingers carefully press John's short hair away from where he assumed it must've hurt. He was careful and deliberate and when John grunted in pain, he stopped. "It isn't bleeding and I don't see anything too bad, but try not to hit it on anything again, okay?" 

"Yeah. Thank you." 

Benjamin smiled. "No problem, John." 

They both started to get ready for the day and John was tying his boots when a loud shout startled him again from his place. He carefully got up and stood at the end of his bunk, looking down the row at who it could be. White and Ben did the same. 

"Surprise inspection during your training today, boys! While everyone is gone, we'll be searching your bunks and personal spaces!" A new face announced from the door. 

Someone had apparently asked out of earshot what warranted this search. 

The man began to stroll casually down the row, almost too happy to possibly be an officer, in John's eyes. "I'm glad you asked, Captain! Your old friend Francis Kinloch was smuggling cigarettes into his personal items to hide them and removing them during scheduled inspections, but we're not concerned about that. We're concerned about the lighter he had. Dangerous. We're putting a new ban on lighters for soldiers and officers under the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, so if we find lighters here, well..." 

As he passed, John caught the name printed on his uniform. R. K. MEADE. 

"Kidder!" Another voice, more familiar but not enough to identify the man, came from the same door that Meade'd walked in through. 

Meade spun around and John saw the face of T. TILGHMAN yet again. "Hamilton wants everyone to present for his briefing in five minutes. You know how he is about wanting everyone to be punctual. Harrison will be scolding our asses if we're late." 

"Yeah, yeah. I get it. Let's go. What's this briefing about again?" 

Their voices faded off as both left and the atmosphere in the room changed immediately. John relaxed his stance and groaned at how stiff he was. 

"You're not standing properly." 

White was watching him and smiling pleasantly. John couldn't help but smile back at him. "Was I? How would you know?" 

"John Laurens, I've been doing this for almost two years. I've been perfecting my salute for the same amount of time. Here, do it again." He walked around him and John stood in the same position he had been before. 

"Two years? No wonder I wasn't able to find you anywhere. You've been fucking around in a military camp in California!" John cheerily said as White made little tweaks to his posture or the position of his feet. 

"Don't curse. It's not going to impress any of the higher-ranked men." 

"Why would I want to impress them?" 

Ben spoke up next. "Jesus Christ, John, you impress them and they might promote you. Promotion means more comfort, more power, more money. Curse like a sailor when it's not necessary and they won't think so highly of you." 

"Exactly," White nodded and they shared a thankful expression. 

"So... You're only a Major after two years of service?" 

He nodded and helped straighten John's collar. "I only signed on for two years and I haven't been deployed abroad yet. I just did some stuff with Homeland Security and I never really wanted to be promoted. If I was promoted, I'd have to send some innocent boys like you off to kill some other innocent boys that were just trying to immigrate from Mexico. So, I didn't even try any of that. I've only ever been in small engagements along the border. And y'know what?" He asked. 

"What?" 

"I've got high hopes for you, Laurens. You'll be the one to tear down this fucking system, won't you?" 

John paused and looked into White's hopeful gaze. "I will do my best." 

"That's all I ask." 

________

Colonel Fitzgerald was standing with his pistol in his hands, looking down at the target he'd set yards away. Their briefing was over and now he had a moment to just be. To do what he pleased. And this is what he chose. 

Left eye shut. Gun in both hands. Finger on the trigger. Breathe in through his nose. Breathe out through his mouth. Pull the trigger. 

Fitz looked up and he nearly had a perfect bullseye. Nearly. 

"Fitz!" 

"Oh fuck. What is it, Tench? Tench Tilly Tilghman, the greatest scribe in the whole of the military of the United States of America," he smiled and started to reload his gun as Tench stepped closer. 

"First of all, fuck you. The prank wasn't meant for you yesterday, it was meant for Hammy." 

"And yet, I was the one you dumped frigid water on last night." 

"SECONDLY! I have a theory!" 

"Jesus Fuck, Tench, not again." 

"Fitz, I'm telling you, this time I'm right." 

"Tench, you're never right." 

"Fuck you." 

"What time?" 

Tench made a face and it was completed by red-tinted cheeks, no doubt from Fitzgerald's comeback. "Just listen to me." 

"Alright. Shoot." Fitz said as he aimed and shot another near bullseye. 

"I believe that our Hamilton has a crush on the blondie in the A-R group. The kid from the Carolinas," Tench Tilghman happily announced to Fitzgerald, prompting Fitz to jolt in surprise and hit the ground right below the target. 

He spun around with a sour expression for Tench making him miss his shot. Tench only smiled back. 

Fitz sighed and spoke up. "The Alpha Romeo group, number one thousand seven hundred and seventy-seven? The blond kid from that group?" 

"Precisely." 

"His name is John Andre Laurens. He's from Columbia, South Carolina. His dad enrolled him in camp for a minimum of one year, regardless of bad behavior. Laurens has three living siblings, no mother, no grandparents. All of this was in his file. Anything else?" Fitz recited and shot again. Bullseye. Finally. 

"Hamilton worked him hard the other day, didn't he? Doesn't he only do that to the kids he likes?" 

"Calling Laurens, who's two years older than him, a kid, makes it sound like pedophilia. Call him a soldier, please." 

"That isn't my point." 

"You're onto something, though. Hamilton may be crushing on the blond guy from Alpha Romeo one-triple-seven. What do you intend to do with this knowledge?" 

"I don't know yet, but I'd say we place bets on if I'm right or not. Our dear Kidder already put five dollars against me." 

"I'm putting in fifty." 

"Against me!?" 

"Damn straight." 

"Fuck you." 

"You keep saying that and I shall continue to ask when." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The comments are much appreciated!! Thank you all for the support! Note: John's middle name is from his grandfather's name, Andre Laurens. Not John André. He comes later. ;)


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shot through the heart with Cupid's bullet.

"Mail!" 

Everyone in the room perked up at the reasonably large stack of envelopes and boxes that Robert Hanson Harrison was carrying. The bright yellow lettering on his uniform, R. H. HARRISON, had been needing to be touched up and he was clearly grateful that his own package had been delivered with the yellow fibers he needed to fix it. His smile was infectious and the other men on General Washington's staff jumped from their beds to gather their papers. 

All except Alexander Hamilton. He sat in his bed still, flipping through _The Song of Achilles_ to find his previous page. Why wasn't he excited? He never got mail. Simple. His father had lost touch with him since he left to California, and his mother... He preferred not to talk about that. 

Meanwhile, the others were separating their packages on the floor like gifts on Christmas. 

"Did you get your Polaroid film yet, Tilly?" Meade asked as he watched Tench Tilghman's face light up with glee. 

"Yes! Finally!" He cried in joy and rushed to get his camera. It was well known to all the aides that Tench Tilghman loved Polaroid photos, fountain pens, 80's music, and chocolate pudding far more than the average person. Nobody knew why, but Tench loved it. He was usually pleasant to be around. 

"What about you, Kidder? What have you gotten?" Fitz asked from his seat on the floor, opening letters. 

"Hopefully the buttons and new shoes I wanted. God, I ordered those, like, forever ago." He opened the box. Buttons, but no shoes. 

Harrison 'oohed' from the other end of their circle. Or square. Whatever it is. 

"What is it?" Meade excitedly asked. 

"A message from the battlefield, gentlemen! Major General John André has sent us a letter!" Harrison announced, waving it about in the air. 

The letter was addressed to _The Aides of Washington's Division_. André was a close friend of many of them and they had all met during a war meeting. During battle. Since then, all the aides and André remained close, finding comfort in the mutual friendship and exchanging of news. 

Everyone clambered to their feet, even Hamilton. 

After a few moments of reading, cheers erupted from them all. "André is returning for a visit! We can finally catch up!" 

In the middle of their celebration, Tench managed to snap a photo. This one goes in the album, he thought. 

_________

"You look ridiculous." 

"Well, I pulled myself through mud under barbed wire today. I have a right to look ridiculous in dried mud and clay." 

"You need a shower." 

"I hated those showers." 

"I know, John." 

"You remember that thing about me?" 

"I can only imagine what you went through during your shower." 

John smiled and grabbed his clean clothes and towel. "My gay ass can't handle that shit. Ben didn't warn me enough." 

"Awww, poor baby," White cooed in a babying voice. "Does Johnny need to be warned a week beforehand? Does Johnny need mental preparation?" 

"Yes, goddammit. I need my mental health to stay stable. Especially right now." 

"John. That's impossible in the military. And you're in the military." 

"At least you're here." 

"I leave in a week, John." 

"WHAT!?" He nearly dropped his clothes in the dirt. 

"My two year contract is nearly up!" 

"Don't leave me, White! You're my emotional support soldier!" John grabbed the collar of his shirt. 

White didn't show any expression, though he was truly amused at John's display. "I'm flattered." 

"Please don't go..." 

"I gotta." 

"But WHITE." 

"If if and buts were candy and nuts, we'd be able to end homelessness." 

"I hate you sometimes." 

"I'm right." 

"That's why I hate you." 

They carefully shuffled into the showers and John made sure to keep his eyes to himself this time. 

____-______

Fitzgerald, Hamilton, and Meade were all surveying the soldiers' first target practice. Soldiers meaning the newest ones. John wasn't the only one, though he felt like it. John looked down the barrel of the gun at the target... 

When everything was set, he pulled the trigger. Nearly perfect. Quality over quantity, he told himself. Unlike these other idiots. 

Truly, they were idiots. Choosing to shoot repetitively in the same inaccurate position instead of correcting themselves. Laurens wondered in they even listened to Colonel Fitzgerald when he walked them through shooting a gun. Who was he to judge, though? He couldn't judge them. No, they were only men like him but... Not. 

He hardly heard Colonel Hamilton's footsteps as he stepped behind Laurens to watch him take his next shot. When it was complete, it was a near perfect shot yet again, but John still fussed over trying to correct his position. 

"You're a fine shot, Private Laurens," Hamilton smiled and John jumped in surprise. 

He spun around, dust and sand clinging to the front of his uniform from laying in it on the ground, and looked at Hamilton, who looked much taller from the ground. 

But oh, from here, John realized how cute Hamilton was. His hair had grown long enough to be in little baby curls that were a fiery red, and his eyes were an indescribable and unique shade of blue, or perhaps purple? If John painted his face someday, he'd make his eyes like a galaxy-themed wallpaper on a phone—a varying spectrum of blues and violets. The freckles that fell across his cheeks would be the stars in the universe, bright and so scattered but also so near. He swore he could find Ursa Major in there somewhere. From there, John recognized that the badges marking him a Colonel were fairly new and not near as tainted or tattered as Colonel Fitzgerald's. The buttons on the uniform shone brighter and the fabric appeared as though it hadn't been ripped like the other men's. 

Oh, that feeling in his chest was never good. Like a fire and a tearing—ripping—directly through his breast and heart. 

_Oh Lord, I have a crush_. 

"Thank you, sir," John forced himself to answer. 

"What prompted you to become such a marksman?" Hamilton asked, kneeling down to make it easier for John to see him. 

He shook his head. Nothing. Just listening skills and attention to detail. 

"Nothing? C'mon, there must be something. Any specific thing that would give you attention to detail or patience?" 

Yes. "I wanted to be an artist." 

"That would explain it. Congrats, Captain Laurens, you've been promoted on account of your fine skills on the shooting range, listening skills, and patience when firing." Hamilton slapped him on the back to get back to work before getting up and heading off to his two partners. 

Meanwhile, Meade was chuckling to himself as he watched Hamilton. Fitz was holding back a grin. He knew right now that he'd owe Tench fifty dollars. 

As Hamilton returned to them, he flashed a pleased smirk at them. "Captain Laurens will be wrapped around my pinkie in love within the year, gentlemen." 

"Doubtful, Alexander, but I wish you luck. It's only July, so I'm willing to give you the rest of the year. If you can't kiss him by then at the very least, you owe me fifty dollars and a new pair of boots," Fitz bet. 

"John Fitzgerald, you will learn firsthand that I never lose a bet." They shook on it. 

Meade looked pleased. "I'm your witness. No backing down from this bet now." 


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March.

"Tick, tick, tick, tick... Tick tock, so goes a clock, ticking about the seconds..." 

"And so we go, about our show, until our bed beckons..." 

"Tick-tock, there goes the clock, counting down the minutes!" 

The aides all sang the rest of it together as they tugged on their boots. "And so we go, sing our song, fan the flame that burns within us!" 

They all finished in a fit of laughter. Their morning wakeup song that was inspired by the neverending ticking of Hamilton's clock. The same alarm clock that lulled them all to sleep and chittered its bells to wake them up in the morning. They all shared a similar affection for the small thing, despite it being over Hamilton's own age. It was made in January of 1994 and given as a gift to Hamilton's mother to celebrate the birth of her newest child: Alexander Rachel Hamilton. It was old and had a unique feeling to it that just made one love it. 

"Good morning, men!" 

They all jumped to attention for the General, even if they hadn't fully tied their shoes. "Good morning, sir!" A chorus of voices said. 

The General chuckled to himself. "At ease, lads. I hope you're all aware that my brother, General André, will be joining us within the week." 

"Yes, we are," Harrison spoke for the whole of them. 

"Good. I have everyone's assignments for today. Colonel Fitzgerald will be attending to the scheduled inspections in Foxtrot Romeo bunks today. I encourage you to keep a close eye on our latest troublemaker. Head out." Washington said and Fitz immediately left after grabbing the remainder of his things. 

"Colonel Tilghman will be following me and documenting the progress of the training in our newest troops. I have heard that Colonel Hamilton promoted a man yesterday because he was showing, and I quote, 'extremely high levels of patience and attention for a new soldier'. I did not authorize this, but perhaps... I shall accept it anyway because Lord knows we need more men that are willing to pay attention. Tench, grab your things and meet me in my office." 

"Yes, sir!" Tench nodded and grabbed his things to leave. 

"Colonel Harrison, you will be instructing line drills again today with the new soldiers. I know you will not disappoint or go too easy on these men," Washington nodded and Harrison left, knowing immediately what to do. He was to set the alarm and wake the men. 

"Colonel Meade, you are in charge of the messages that are going to come in and go out yet again. I trust you will do well." 

"Thank you, sir." 

"And lastly, Colonel Hamilton..." Washington smiled at the redhead and stepped closer to him. "I heard from Tilghman that you promoted this man because you have a crush on him. Is this true?" 

Hamilton blushed under the question that his father figure had given to him. He couldn't lie to Washington, but... Oh God, he couldn't lie. "Uhm... Well, sir, you see, I didn't see his promotion that way until when I later thought about it and there are many benefits to the promotion of Captain Laurens. If he endures more training and one of our higher-ranked men takes him in to train him, then sir, he will be a great leader, I assure you." 

Washington just stood smiling, watching his boy's wild gesturing and practical pleading to get him to understand. Finally, he chuckled and shook his head. "Alexander, he looks like a lovely young lad and if you think him ready for promotion, just come to me and I will do it myself. He seems like a good person, and that's what we need right now. I trust your judgment. Just remember that he is a soldier right now and only a Captain. Do not give in to the temptation of being with him before he is ready for it. He is only a Captain. You are a Colonel." 

Alexander nodded. "Yes, sir." Those words made the pair of them smile. 

"Good lad. Now, I need you to make sure that nobody steps out of place today. Stand tall and strong and make sure that this camp is diligent and uncorrupt. Got it?" 

"Yessir." 

_________

John was positioned in the back right corner of the line of men that stood in rows of three and lines seven each. It felt surreal to be here, being taught the proper ways to march. It was almost scary how fast he was progressing. 

"I want to hear no dragging of boots or any complaining. I also want perfect lines and perfect synchronization. No man left behind. No man out of place. If you become out of sync, try to get back in. You will be in sync with me and me only as I walk along beside the first row to everyone's right. If I think you all do well, then I will stop but everyone else will continue until I blow my whistle. Am I clear, men?" Colonel Harrison clearly shouted. A few answers were heard, but John didn't speak up. He was too afraid and too focused on watching Harrison to answer. 

"Alright, boys! Sync up!" Harrison announced and began to move forward. The first row began to move with him, then the next, and so on. But nobody was in harmony.

Nobody was following his orders and instructions on how to properly march. John watched Harrison for a second and then began trying to copy his stance. The rigid way he stood, the swing of his arms and how it moved compared to his legs. When John thought he had it right, he pulled his eyes from Harrison's movements and straight ahead. 

"STOP!" 

Everyone came to an immediate stop. 

"Goddamn, all of you are looking like idiots! An army who cannot march correctly cannot fight correctly! Are you children!?" Harrison yelled in one man's face who was in the fourth row. 

The soldier responded by spitting in Harrison's face, leaving the Colonel dumbfounded. "We were doing what you fucking commanded, Captain dumbfuck." 

Harrison's eyes seemed to have flames in them at that very moment. He looked furious and his face became red. Fists clenched at his sides, jaw set, a disgusted face... John dove to the ground and covered his ears as if a grenade was being hurled at this poor soul just as Harrison began to scream his loudest at the soldier. Numerous other men stumbled back or followed John's lead. 

John closed his eyes, covered his head, and plugged his ears as best he could. He wasn't sure how long this rant would go on or what might happen to that soldier for disrespecting a commanding officer in such a way, but he could feel his thumping heart in his fingertips and toes as though he were the one being punished. 

His father's words echoed in his head. _Are you incompetent? An idiot? How did I get stuck with a retard as my son? My oldest son, completely irresponsible and hopeless. You'll never amount to anything if you don't listen to me, boy. Get off the ground and_ work _. You know, nevermind. Go to your room. You can go to bed without dinner tonight. I'll punish you properly tomorrow morning._

Lord knows he knew how it felt to be punished. 

It had to have been minutes later when John felt a careful hand on his shoulder. He hesitantly looked up to a calm expression. It was Colonel Harrison himself. 

"Are you alright? Do I need to go get a doctor?" He asked with a concerned tone in his whisper. John looked up and saw no other men in lines or rows for marching. Had they all been sent away or punished? "Kid?" 

"Sir?" John hadn't processed his earlier words. 

"Are you okay? I asked if you needed a doctor?" Harrison repeated and started slowly helping John up and out of his little ball of defense. 

"I don't need a doctor, sir. I guess I just panicked when you started yelling and I couldn't hear when it was over. I'm sure I'm alright." 

Harrison offered a small smile. "I apologize. I can be quite rash when it comes to marching. If you would like, I could teach you privately and try to be a little more forgiving when I need to correct something?" 

John hesitated but nodded. "I think I would like that. I don't have good experiences with being yelled at, sir. I'm sorry." 

"I completely understand, and I'm here if you want to tell me something. I prefer to know these things ahead of time so that I can avoid these accidents, but I will respect your privacy." 

"Thank you, sir." John looked around. "Where are the others?" 

Harrison sighed. "Sent off to either another drill or to get disciplined. I stayed to check on you." 

"Thank you again." 

"It's never a problem, Captain Laurens." 

________

"Straight arms and they never swing further than the angle of the opposite leg. It looks unprofessional if it goes further or less than the angle," Harrison said and corrected John's stance. 

"How far do I move my leg?" 

"However far you need to keep a perfect row when you march. Height and the length of a man's leg determine that. It takes quite a bit of drilling to get it right, but that's alright. Nobody does it right on their first try." 

"Well, I did." 

"Fitzgerald, nobody needs your input right now." 

"Well, Meade, I felt the need to lighten the mood." 

"Silence, both of you!" Harrison snapped. 

John had been gathered into a two by two private drill with White at his left, Colonel Fitzgerald behind him, and Colonel Meade to the left of Fitzgerald. It was specifically for the purpose of getting better and, in Harrison's eyes, keeping everyone from getting rusty. He had explained to John that if he got good enough at marching, he may be able to join the aides some mornings for their own training and practice at keeping straight lines. They had been falling out of practice throughout the summer as work became more. John had been surprised at the offer but said he may consider it and join once he thought his marching was worthy to be compared with the men on Washington's staff. 

"Chin up, Laurens. Both physically and mentally," Harrison reminded as he gently tapped the bottom of John's chin. 

"Yes, chin up! Chin up!" Fitzgerald began to sing. 

"Jesus Christ, not that stupid song from the pig movie," Meade groaned. 

"It's called Charlotte's Web and it's a good movie!" 

"You only watch it because Tench makes you!" 

Harrison put a hand on John's shoulder as a warning that he was about to yell. That was their small signal. "SHUT UP!" 

Both men silenced themselves and White was left snickering. 

"Alright. Fall in, men. When I blow my whistle, it means to put your right leg forward. Let's go." Harrison placed the whistle in his mouth and stood at the front of the four soldiers. 

The whistle blew and everyone began to march, each one focused on himself. John had learned that if he focused on himself and listening to Harrison before trying to focus on falling in with others, he would do better. 

Whistle, step. Step. Whistle, step. Step. Whistle, step. Step. Whistle, step. Step. 

One long whistle signified the end of the march for now. 

"Fine job, Laurens. You're getting better already and I have no doubt you'll be a pro in no time." Fitzgerald said from behind him. 

Harrison nodded in approval. "You're making great progress already. Now, go get your dinner before it's too late, both of you." He waved White and John off and looked at the other two left in front of him. 

Fitzgerald smiled. "I see why our little lion likes him." 

"Indeed." 

"He'd be a lovely addition to our group. Do you think he's good with a pen?" 

"Only one way to find out." 

_______-______

The next morning, John woke early due to Colonel Harrison claiming that he had been summoned by General Washington himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The underscores mean later in the day. The underscores with a dash in them mean that the following text occurs in a new day. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you a lot for your support! Comments are always appreciated! I happen to love how you all manage to make my day with the comments. 
> 
> Also: Washington and André are adopted brothers in this au meaning that André was adopted into the Washington family. That's how they're brothers in case anyone is confused.


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beast reared and one of the three heads suddenly yelped. John immediately regretted his action.

The dream was almost like reality.

The blond hair he possessed was long again and he felt it tied back with a ribbon on the back of his head. The sword in its scabbard at his side was heavier than he would've expected, but he easily countered the weight, apparently due to how much he carried it. He wore a heavy set of bronze armor, but no helmet. His feet were only covered with leather sandals. 

It all felt incredibly Grecian. 

And as he walked forward, he looked up at saw the three-headed dog that guarded the passage to hell, Cerberus. The dog had a middle head that reminded John distinctly of a Doberman and the right head of a Golden Retriever, but he couldn't yet see the left head. 

Suddenly, the creature jolted to its feet a burst toward John, barking and whimpering and it was only being pulled back by the chain around its center neck. John recognized the sounds the dog made and thought it sounded like it was barking for its owner when it was returning home. 

He continued forward until the dog scooped John up with its middle snout and threw him in the air, jumping in assumed glee. 

The creature pranced happily and John felt himself land on its neck. He slid down the slick fur until he was stopped by the collar. He was not scared. 

He was not scared. 

Then the beast reared and John frantically grabbed at its fur. The middle head yelped and he immediately regretted what he'd done. He had pulled too hard on its hairs. 

"Sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he apologized. 

The left head, he saw from here, was a deep red and looked like a Cocker Spaniel. 

"Good... Uh... Good boy?" 

Cerberus was clearly happy to hear this based on the wagging of his tail. 

"Good boy, Cerberus, good boy!" 

The three-headed dog jumped and barked happily at the praise. 

It suddenly occurred to John that if he was in the Underworld, it could only mean that he had died. Or that he was a spirit of the Dead. A demon. 

He was then awoken by Harrison shaking him and telling him that Washington had summoned him. 

___________

John stood in front of the General himself, flanked by Colonel Hamilton at his left and Colonel Tilghman at his right, and felt a sense of dejà Vu. Not because the place (the military) was hell, but because the men before him reminded him of the heads of Cerberus. 

The Cocker Spaniel and its red hair obviously reminded him of Hamilton. 

The blond hair and slight smile on Tilghman gave him a sense that he was the Golden Retriever. 

Lastly, the commanding expression of General Washington with his graying hair and eyes that let no secret or emotion slip was clearly the middle head. The Doberman. 

The two men flanking Washington and then the General himself all seemed too familiar. 

These men were supposedly guarding the gates to Hell. 

_Welcome to Hell_ , he remembered. 

"You have called me here, sir?" 

The General only smiles for a moment as John stands, waiting for an answer. Harrison stands beside John, at his left. 

Tilghman looks to the redhead across from him. He looks to Harrison next. The General finally stands and opens his mouth to speak, and John automatically stands straighter. 

"Can you write, Captain Laurens? Do you know the military alphabet? Can you translate languages such as French or German?" General Washington, the intimidating figure before him, asked what would be an insane question to anyone else. Of course, he can write! Can't all people? 

"I can write, sir. I do know the military alphabet and a few other languages," answers the shorter man as swiftly as he can. Somehow, the General reminds him of his own father, but not quite. There is something different here he cannot place. 

"What languages do you know?" 

"You wish to know all of them, sir?" 

"Of course, Captain." 

John hesitates. His eyes flicker to Colonel Hamilton's face, which looks like it is trained to be steady. He shows no emotion. The blond captain practically feels his heart melt at the idea of impressing him before, and if he can do it again... 

"Captain Laurens?" 

"I can read German but I cannot speak it, and I can also read Latin. I can speak six languages. English, French, Spanish, Greek, Italian, and Portuguese. I also memorized the military alphabet before I came here." John breathed in again after spending his entire last breath on that short speech. 

Everyone in the room looked surprised or impressed. Even Hamilton. Tilghman smiled at John and then Harrison. 

"My, my! Who taught you all these languages?" The General seemed extremely pleased. 

"Many people, sir, but my father made me learn all of them. He always said that he thought all people should know at least three languages." 

"Sounds like an honorable man." 

Harrison suddenly lost the smile on his face and stepped forward to whisper something to the general. No doubt the little bit that he had learned yesterday about John. The puzzle of John's history with his father was not hard to put together. 

John felt his stomach drop to his toes. His father... Honorable. The statement made John want to reconsider if his father really was the asshole he thought he was or if John was just being a baby. A child. Just judging his father too quickly and taking Google's advice on mental abuse too easily. 

As John was thinking, Harrison whispered quick words to Washington. "Sir, he's been yelled at by his father multiple times. Enough to cause some sort of emotional damage to Laurens. He... I hate to say this, sir, but Henry Laurens may not be so honorable." 

Washington turned to speak to Harrison. "You suspect the senator has been abusive to his son in some way?" 

Harrison nodded. "We must send him to McHenry to be sure, but it's certainly possible. I'm no expert, but I've seen the same symptoms in boys and men this way, too." 

Washington waved Harrison back to his place beside John and sighed. "Captain Laurens, how did you come to this camp?" 

"My father enrolled me." 

"Why?" 

He froze and felt like his world was about to come crashing down. The next words poured from his mouth came out stuttered and forced. "I told him that I was gay." 

The room was quiet. Until General Washington spoke up again. "That is no reason to send his son to the military. Why did he send you?" 

John was getting himself choked up but pushed himself forward. Stay strong, he thought. This was the General. He couldn't lie to him or withhold information. "He said if God couldn't make it all go away, maybe the military could drill it out of me. He said one day that all gays are weak and only real men that love women are strong. He said... He said..." 

Tears flushed from his eyes and poured over his cheeks, like a flood on land that had been in a drought. His blue irises stood out against his now reddening eyes. Harrison practically panicked and grabbed John's shoulders, turning him away from the general and wiping his tears away with frantic thumbs and palms. 

Hamilton spun toward the General. "Sir, I suggest you promote him as a secretary at the very least while he is still here. He is no longer in any state to be here around other men. We can discuss this further when he is in a more solid state of mind." 

The beast reared and yelped. The General had uttered the quick words, "son, please face me." 

John regretted letting himself cry. He felt he had pulled too hard on the fur of Cerberus. He had pulled too hard on the heartstrings of the General. He slowly turned around. He couldn't stop crying.

"Harrison, take Captain Laurens to Doctor McHenry immediately after this meeting is finished. Laurens, son, please stop crying. I apologize for upsetting you. You never have to open up to anyone if you don't want to. Tilghman and Hamilton will help you get settled tomorrow in your new job. Take care." 

Harrison was suddenly dragging him from the room and off toward a building John could hardly see them through his tears. 

_____________

"Well. I'm gonna need a picture of Laurens tomorrow. Since he's on our staff now." 

Tench was holding his Polaroid photos in his hands and the box he kept them in (labeled "Military Family") was sitting in his lap. The picture of Hamilton dressed in a navy blue Halloween costume never failed to make him smile. That's the one he was smiling at right then. He picked up the next one. The group photo of them all donning their costumes to look like the first army the United States ever had: the Continental Army. 

"Tench, where's the picture of the dog we found that one time? The Pomeranian, was it?" Meade asked from the bunk next to him. 

Tench shuffled through the box and found the picture of the little white Pomeranian dog that belonged to General Charles Lee, who was currently deployed to a ship in the Gulf of Mexico to train troops there for roughly a month more before he returned. The dog was his companion, Spada, who was actually his emotional support dog. "This?" 

"Isn't that the dog that scared La Fayette because he didn't know what it was?" Hamilton asked from his own bunk that was above Meade's. Hamilton was writing in his daily journal, as he did every night. 

"Yes. He didn't know what it was because the dog had so much hair!" Fitzgerald laughed. 

At that moment, Harrison walked through the door to their small room they all shared. 

Everyone sat up to see what he was doing. After a minute of silence, Tench finally asked. 

"So... How is Laurens?" 

Harrison took in a breath, held it for a second, then puffed it out through his mouth. 

"Captain Laurens suffered mental and emotional abuse from his father and he's currently being held in the medical center to determine if he has any other mental illnesses. As of right now, he won't be able to join our staff tomorrow." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated.


	8. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wouldn't it be nice~

The shower was empty and John was grateful for it. He finally got to be alone, and a shower is what he needed. Old habits returned to him, and he found himself singing before he realized it. 

"This is gospel, for the fallen ones..." He paused. It had been so long since he had gotten to sing this way. This song. His father had hated when he'd sing it as he'd play the piano or when John would sing just a little too loud in the shower. John's sister, Mary Eleanor, had said that their father Henry didn't like it because he sounded too much like their mother, so John had stopped. 

But a few weeks before he'd come out to his family, Mary Eleanor had said that she missed his singing and had asked John to sing something to her. He'd chosen "Fireflies" by Owl City. In the recent weeks, John had gotten back to singing to himself and Mary only, memorizing certain songs and "This is Gospel" by Panic! At The Disco was one of his favorites. So was The Girl From Ipanema, but he'd changed it a bit to The Boy From Ipanema. 

By now John was singing slowly to himself, emphasizing certain words that had more meaning to him, such as insufferable bastards, broken memories, and other similar words. 

It felt good to sing again, and when he was sure he was clean, he shut the water off, dried himself, and got dressed. Then, John stepped from the shower connected to the small hospital they had here and walked back to his little bed. 

The doctor who'd seen him before made his way back over to John. DR. J. MCHENRY. "How do you feel, John?" 

"A little better, I guess." 

"That's good. That's very good. Would you mind staying here overnight so that we can keep an eye on you, John?" McHenry asked politely. 

"I wouldn't mind, but could you please tell my friends where I am? Major John White and Captain Benjamin Tallmadge. I don't want them to worry," he rushed out the words. 

McHenry nodded. "I'll tell them. Get some sleep, John. You'll be alright." 

______-_______

"He needs praise and acceptance, George. He never had a relationship with his father that was healthy and stable for him, and now he's paying the price for it. John's... He's a strange case, but I can see right now that if he isn't given the right care, he could deteriorate faster than water on a hot sidewalk." 

Washington sighed and leaned back in his seat. He couldn't imagine not being cared for by his own father. His father had been so important in his life. To have a man's own flesh and blood turn on him was just... Wrong. 

"George, what're you gonna do?" 

"Jim, you know exactly what I'll do," Washington answered and sat up. 

"You already have enough men to be a father to, you can't possibly take another in!" McHenry objected. 

"The others will benefit from a new face to be around." 

"George, please. This is... He's only been here less than a week! This is rushing him!" 

"Jim, he's not a child." 

"To you he is." 

"Son doesn't mean child." 

McHenry gave up. "Well. He has a lovely singing voice and I hope you have a lovely time finding him a place on your staff." 

George smiled. "I will. Tallmadge is already on his way to being promoted, as well. You know, I could—"

McHenry cut him off. "I'm not going to be promoted anytime soon! I'm happy where I am!" 

_________

"My fellow soldiers, my fellow men, I know a man who can cheer Laurens up in a heartbeat!" Tench announced as he waltzed into their shared room. Every aide but Hamilton was present. Perfect. 

"And what is it, Tilly?" Meade sat up with bright eyes. 

Tench fluttered his lashes at his friend. "Well, dear Kidder, it's our very own lion!" 

Fitz leaned over the edge of their shared bed and glared at him. "Alexander?" 

"You got it!" 

"Just to clarify, you mean Alexander Hamilton, right?" 

"Absolutely." 

Meade hummed in thought for a moment before he smiled and nodded. "Yes. I can see them together, actually." 

"Good. By the way, I already spent the fifty five dollars you two gave me on pens," Tench sang. 

"Tench, can we talk together please?" Fitz asked from his top bunk, prompting the smaller of the two to climb to the bed and sit next to his partner. 

"What is it?" 

"I love you and I just missed you a lot," Fitzgerald reminded, keeping his voice low and barely restraining from kissing Tench. 

The smaller man made a sound like a pleased whine. "I know. I love you, too. When are we going to tell the others?" 

"I was thinking we could scare the fuck out of Kidder and kiss in front of him to come out together. I don't think anybody would ever expect us to get together." 

"I like that idea but..." 

"But?" 

"I have a better plan." 

_____________

"It's a new day, it's a new patch on my uniform, and it's a new batch of tears," John sighed as he clutched White's shirt. "You'll send letters, right? Please tell me you'll send letters!" 

"I promise, kiddo." 

"I'm only two years younger than you." 

"John, please let go or the bus will leave without me." 

"Fine. Please stay safe." John pulled him into a quick hug. 

"You too, Jack. Listen to me, okay?" White held John's cheeks in his hands and looked directly into his eyes. "Everything is gonna be okay. You got this. I'm gonna take care of home stuff for you while you're gone. I love you, John. You'll be alright." He planted a careful kiss on John's forehead and started to leave. 

John started to cry. "I love you too! I miss you!" 

The bus rumbled to life and started away as White took his seat and waved goodbye. 

"He's gone..." 

"He really is." Benjamin had tears of his own creeping down his cheeks. 

"Now it's just us, isn't it?" 

"I guess so. I only have one question though," Ben wiped his face as he spoke. 

"Yes?" 

"What was with the kiss? Do you two really love each other?" 

"He's a really old friend. Practically a brother. We both decided that platonic kisses are really important recently so... Kisses." 

Ben nodded and looked deep in thought. "May I have a kiss?" He finally asked. 

"A kiss where?" John clarified. 

Ben pointed to his left cheek. "Right here." 

John planted a careful, very loving kiss on his cheek. "There. Don't be afraid to ask for more kisses." 

"Thank you." 

"Hey, Laurens!" 

They both spun around to see Tilghman and Fitzgerald together. They were rushing closer. 

"Hello, sirs. What may I do for you?" John asked as he cleared his face. 

"We haven't been properly introduced yet. My name is Tench Tilghman, but you may call me Tilly if you choose," the man introduced and stuck out his hand to the pair of men in front of him. They shook hands. 

"I'm John Fitzgerald, but please call me Fitz," he followed Tench's lead. 

"Major Benjamin Tallmadge, sirs," Ben smiled and introduced. He was very proud of his new title. "Call me Ben." 

Everyone looked to John. 

"You all already know who I am." 

"Do we? I think I forgot your first name, Laurens. What was it again?" Tench asked, shifting about on his feet. 

"It's John. Major John Laurens, but you can call me Jack or John. I don't mind either," sighed the blond man. 

"John and John! Lovely!" Tench cheered. 

"It is, love, but I'm afraid I need to go. I have drills to teach in a few minutes and I have to go all the way across camp. I love you, Tilly," Fitz cooed and pulled the shorter of the two into a kiss before he left with only a smile and a wave. 

Ben and John were dumbfounded. 

"I love him so much." 

"Was that a platonic kiss?" Ben asked. 

"Pardon?" 

Ben blushed and began explaining John and his' earlier conversation. When he was finished, Tench was still smiling. 

"We're gay, Benjamin," he blushed and started to laugh to himself. 

Ben flushed and so did John. 

He wasn't the only gay one here.... He wasn't the only gay one and he immediately felt a sense of hope fill him. Tench shot him a quick look of reassurance and John felt happy. He had backup. 

__________

URGENT TO GENERAL WASHINGTON

FROM: GENERAL LA FAYETTE 

I'm on my way, Kidder! The Canada Expedition is complete! I expect a big group hug when I return! 

Dated: August 1, 2019, 18:19. 

Received by: Colonel R. K. Meade. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments always appreciated!   
> I posted Six, Seven, and Eight all in one day. :)


	9. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Did I tell you that La Fayette is on his way?"

"TENCH AUGUSTUS TILGHMAN!" 

"Jesus fucking Christ, what!?" He yelled from the shower stall he was currently inhabiting. Tench suddenly heard the door to their bathroom open and he knew immediately what would happen next. He frantically shut the water off and grabbed his towel seconds before Meade ripped the shower curtain open. 

"You're gay!" 

"What gave it away?" 

"Major Tallmadge to Washington and Washington to me! I can't believe you kissed Fitzgerald! Are you dating Fitzgerald!?" He yelled and Tench couldn't tell without his contacts in if he was angry or not. 

"Does it qualify as dating if we live with each other, have kissed each other, but have never gone on a date?" He asked and stepped out of the shower to grab a fresh towel. 

"Yes." 

"Then yes, Fitzgerald and I are dating. Who knows by now?" 

Meade stood back as Tench started to dry his hair and proceed to pat dry the rest of his body (which he had heard somewhere was the healthiest way to dry oneself) and get dressed. Black boxers and a t-shirt that was two sizes two big was his acceptable sleep clothes for tonight, yeah? Yeah. When Tench turned back to the door, Meade was still listing people who knew. 

The only person not present in the bunk room they all shared was Harrison, who Tench could only assume was off to do some last minute paperwork. 

"... And that's everyone who knows, I think," Meade finished. 

Fitzgerald sat up from his nest under the blankets and looked at Meade. "Did you just list the whole camp?" 

"No." 

"Fitz, I need my pen back please," Hamilton mumbled. 

"Writing a love letter to Laurens, are we Alex?" He hummed and handed it back to him. 

Alexander blushed and didn't answer, turning away and starting to write in his journal. 

Everyone knew it: Hamilton and Laurens were crushing hard on each other. 

"Any other questions, Kidder?" 

"Did I tell you that La Fayette is on his way?" 

Cries of outrage were heard for not being told sooner and Meade considered that his revenge. 

_________-________

"This is the desk?" 

"Yes sir! This is your desk that you'll share with Colonel Hamilton, Tilghman, and Major Tallmadge. Your job is to translate letters for us. We have a number of Spanish and French speaking allies since the war in Mexico was declared and uhm... Let's just say the General isn't good at speaking anything but English," Harrison explained and pulled out the seat for John. The blond could hardly speak. He was flattered. 

"The Mexican war... I never thought that there'd ever be a war against Mexico," Tilghman mumbled from his own place as he jotted down notes between the lines of his own translation. 

"I don't think either of us expected it, Tilly, but the president just became fed up, I guess. At least La Fayette got the Canadians to help us negotiate a peace and end this all faster," Meade chipped in as he sat at his own place against the wall where a radio station, some headphones that were falling apart, and some cluttered papers all sat. 

Harrison sighed. "Ignore them. You'll meet all the important generals soon, I promise. Once André and La Fayette return, we may be able to find General Hale and give him a hand, too. He's across the border with his own men following orders." 

"So I just... All I do is write the translation and notes to go with it, right?" John clarified and grabbed a clean sheet of paper to get to work. 

"Precisely." 

The room fell silent for a few minutes and Harrison left, leaving John, Tench, and Meade to work. It wasn't long before Meade shuffled some of his papers frantically and the sound of his pen was heard against paper. The headphones on his head blocked the other two from hearing much of anything he could've been listening to. 

Not even a few seconds later, the headphones were torn off and Meade jumped to his feet. His chair clattered to the floor and he ran from the room without a word. 

John and Tench were left to imagine silently what could've happened, and Tench had a bad feeling that it meant that they weren't going to wait for André and La Fayette before they were sent to meet Hale. 

_________

"Sir, if you just listen—" 

"I don't need to listen. We need to be preparing!" 

"The boys aren't ready to fight!" 

"General Hale has lost half his men in a month! I will not leave him stranded to be captured and killed!" Washington shouted to Meade and clenched the paper in his hand. "We will not wait for La Fayette to return. I want two hundred soldiers to be sent out at sunrise. Tilghman and yourself will stay behind with me and await the other two generals. Send out the order to pack the trucks tonight." 

"But sir—" 

"That's an order, Colonel!" 

__________

Hamilton had joined the group now, diligently working on his translation across from John. He had entered the room minutes ago without a word. 

John gathered his courage and decided to speak up. "I don't think we've been officially introduced, Colonel. I'm Captain—" 

"Captain John Laurens. I'm aware. I promoted you, after all. If I'm not mistaken, you've been promoted again?" Hamilton asked and looked up at him. They shook hands despite the fact that he hadn't introduced himself yet. 

Tench spoke up. "A major is the lowest rank to be able to work on General Washington's staff. I forgot to mention that. My apologies, John." 

Hamilton smiled. "So... Major John Laurens." 

"Apparently. And I still don't know your first name." 

Hamilton looked up at him from his paper, set down his pen, and crossed his arms as they lay against the table. "Colonel Alexander Hamilton." 

"Alexander Rachel Hamilton, to be exact." Tench was snickering from his seat. 

"Ignore him, please," Alexander sighed and looked away from John's blue eyes with a blush on his face. 

"I don't think it's anything to be upset about to have a name that sounds... What's the word..." 

"Girlish?" Tench offered. 

"Feminine," John corrected. "In fact, I'll tell you my middle name if you like." 

"I already know it, John Andre Laurens. It's all in your file among the other soldiers. Listed in alphabetical order by last name then first name. So..." Alexander stood up and walked to a filing cabinet and pulled open the drawer with the letter 'L' on it. "L-A-U— found you. Right behind a man with the last name Lauren. Your file explains basic things like name, gender, family... Then other things. Medical history, sexuality... We've had to update it quite frequently, but the more we learn, the more impressive your file becomes." 

After sliding the folder away, Alexander sat back down in front of John. He was smiling like he was pleased by something. 

Suddenly, the almost tender atmosphere was shattered by a familiar voice over the loudspeakers. 

"All soldiers in Alpha and Bravo groups are to pack their belongings. Tomorrow morning at o' six hundred, Alpha and Bravo and their assigned leaders are to leave and support General Hale's troops at Rio Grande Battlefield. Repeat, all soldiers in Alpha and Bravo groups are to pack to prepare for battle! More information will be on the fliers in the mess hall. This is not a drill, this is an order from General Washington. Thank you for your attention." 

Tench and Alexander were already out the door halfway through the announcement, on their way to the mess hall, where they knew the assigned list of officers would be placed. 

When they arrived, they were the first. Immediately, they saw the names jump out from the paper. 

COLONEL A. HAMILTON — LEADING THE ALPHA SOLDIERS M THROUGH R

COLONEL J. FITZGERALD — LEADING THE ALPHA SOLDIERS A THROUGH F

COLONEL R. H. HARRISON — SUPPORTING THE ALPHA SOLDIERS M THROUGH R

As they searched the list, neither could find Tench or Meade's names. 

Tench's bad feeling was justified and he wasn't excited about his boyfriend get sent off to battle. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex is pleased that John's file was updated to say "Homosexual" under his sexuality. Alex's own says "Biromantic homosexual". 
> 
> Comments are always appreciated! The next chapter is uhhhh. I've been planning it out for a while.


	10. Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air, gave proof through the night... That our flag was still there.

The gun was cold and having bony shoulders pressed directly into his sides during the rickety drive was not ideal. He had gotten no sleep, lying awake and thinking of his first battle. His first fight. It has dawned on him that night that he might die and that if he did, that was it. He might die, and it scared the fuck out of him. 

John clenched the gun tighter to his chest. He was thankful it wasn't loaded in case there was a slipup and... He didn't want to go home. He's prefer this hellscape of war and the dry, baking heat of southern California far more than the hatred of his father and the suffocating glares of people he once thought loved him. He missed home, but one thing he did not miss was his father. He missed White, but he did not miss the awful, judgmental looks he'd gotten being dragged into church one last time. 

Somebody sneezed and John looked up. He saw Ben's familiar face drawn into a tired expression across from him. This was his first fight too. John was not alone in his wonderings. 

They were there before they knew it, and it was clear. The ground seemed to shake beneath their feet as though there was a perpetual earthquake, and loud shots, no doubt explosions, were heard not too far away. Occasionally a quick bout of gunfire was heard. It all became clearer as they got closer, and at the same time, it all got dustier. The air, John realized, was clouded with dust and sand and smoke. So much smoke. 

The back of their jeep opened and they all quickly and silently filed out, guns held close. Soldiers dove into trenches dug into the reddish sand and dried clay that were nearby and once the whole two hundred and thirty two men were unloaded, their only way back disappeared. Now the men were stuck here until they surrendered or won. 

"Alright, Alpha Mike through Romeo, you're following me. We're going to meet up with General Hale and General Knox and decide where to go from there. The fighting is mostly due South, so just follow the sunrise Eastward and you should find everybody else. Fall in and move out," Alexander commanded and started to lead his roughly fifty men though the trench. It dipped suddenly and a man in front of John stumbled. 

He fell and cried suddenly. Apparently, John saw, he fell just right on his gun that it would make any man wince. 

Something fast whizzed by John's ear and Hamilton cried "DUCK!" before he could react. Every man among their line crouched low to protect their head as a shower of bullets scattered the ground and sand around them. 

War was much quieter than John imagined. It was unsettling. 

Hacksaw Ridge and Saving Private Ryan are what first made him picture war as loud and violent—a bloodbath. But war was too quiet. Terrifyingly quiet. 

John looked up and they were moving again. Soldiers were shuffling around him to follow Hamilton. He watched them all and waited for everyone to pass before he got back to his feet. He looked back down the rest of the trenches. 

Three men had not been lucky enough to hear Hamilton's cry to duck. Three men were already dead. 

John felt sick just looking at them and so he kept moving. 

Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. 

Harrison's marching drills were no use now. They were only a formality, and here, in an unforgiving wasteland of blood and bombs, all formality was abandoned. 

He stopped at the back of the crowd of men who had reached their destination: a widened trench hidden from gunfire from front and back by two metal walls, hardly complete and shockingly new. The ground beneath John's feet was hard and grainy, and the walls both looked reversed. 

It didn't take a genius to know that they were standing on the border of the United States of America and Mexico, sandwiched between each side of the president's walls. 

John looked up towards the top of the wall. It felt so wrong to be here. This is not how he'd wanted to visit Mexico. 

"Laurens! We need your help!" Hamilton called, waving John toward a cluttered table near the southern half of the wall. 

Walking closer to the crowded table, John saw a map and little figures laid on it. Troop movements. 

"Major Laurens, I'd like you to meet General Hale and General Knox. Hale is in charge of leading the main force and Knox is in charge of our artillery, namely tanks and ground cannons," Hamilton introduced helpfully. Nobody moved to greet Laurens. 

"We need a full charge forward, Nathan," Knox said. 

"I won't risk losing more men that way. It's not worth it. We could request air support from the Air Force Base nearby, but they'd take too long to get ready and in position and the enemy would likely make a move on us before then," General Hale mumbled, spinning a compass in his hands and looking down at the map through squinted eyes. 

"General, if I may, they're running low on ammunition and men. Their nearest base is over thirty miles and since we cut off their trenches last night, they wouldn't risk sending for more soldiers. We've trapped them," an unfamiliar man said confidently. 

Hale began shaking his head. "No. I don't want anymore men to die, on either side." 

"Smoke them out." 

Everyone looked to John in confusion. John looked back, surprised at himself too. He hadn't even been thinking, but he'd glanced at the map and how close their trenches were at one place, and it occured to him. 

"Smoke them out." 

"Laurens, what do you mean?" Hale questioned. He looked interested and intrigued. 

"We have teargas, right? Throw it in their trenches and they'll all run out. Then, when they're practically blind and vulnerable, we strike. Not with guns, but with our own men. We take prisoners, but don't kill them. They'll have information." He was suddenly behind the desk, pointing at the near places on the map, explaining his logic. Everyone was listening. 

"How will we get it in the trenches, though?" Knox asked. 

"Men with strong arms, and if you can find a way, cannons." 

___________

They were lined up at the shallow side of the trenches yet again, and when Hamilton gave the word, John and the other men threw the canisters with all the strength they could muster. 

The already cloudy air became foggier. 

Before they knew it, people began to pull themselves out of the trench the enemy was in and rush toward their own, not knowing which way was safety. 

The soldiers pulled themselves from the trench and rushed to grab the people stumbling to them. 

John felt his heart drop when he heard the gunshot and saw the blood splatter into the air from the young man's head. He felt numb when the person slid into their trench, dressed not like a soldier, but as a civilian. And John felt his head spin as he heard more gunshots. 

"I didn't consider gas masks," he wheezed and felt his heart pound to life against his ribcage, which felt far too small. 

John saw men fall to the ground and he watched their blood stain the sand and clay. 

He killed them. 

Because he hadn't thought about gas masks. 

A bullet whizzed by his head, and John ducked, but then he saw the child stumbling toward them, voice strained but still clearly crying out for help in Spanish. He lifted his head up and then dropped his gun. He was taking steps toward the child. Right, left, right, left, right, left... 

He was in plain view. He could hardly hear Hamilton screaming for him to come back. 

"Ayuda! Por favor, ayuda!" The child coughed, and John, in the midst of gunfire and hell on Earth, knew that he had to save this child. It may be illegal, but he had to. No child should have to endure the torture of war. Not ever. 

He wrapped his arms around the kid and picked him up. The boy, he realized, was tired and injured and let himself go limp in John's arms. His breathing was shallow, but it was there. 

The journey back seemed like a marathon, every step a mile. 

John held this little Mexican boy in his arms and heard his fellow soldiers scream for him to make it back. Benjamin and Alexander cried out something amidst the shouts that he couldn't discern. 

Until the grenade that landed behind him went off, and he was thrown off his feet. 

__________

His head was spinning and his ears were ringing, but the little boy in his arms was still clinging on tight and breathing and he was alive. John had to make sure he saved this kid. 

He tried to move his legs, but when his right leg shifted, he cried out in pain and felt a jolt of red hot electricity shoot up into his chest and head. Again, he moved his legs, and this time, he only whimpered as the burning pain filled his foot and lower leg. 

John shifted his leg foot further into the dirt and pushed forward with it like that. He had moved a little bit closer to the trench. He shoved his foot into the dirt again and moved forward another few inches. He kept the boy in his arms, keeping a tight but not constricting hold on him. He wouldn't let the kid go. 

Every few seconds, another few inches. Over and over and over until... He fell into the trench, the boy still in his arms, and watched his fellow men gather closer. 

His ears still rang and he couldn't hear them, but he was starting to see them. Fitzgerald, Harrison... Hamilton. John hardly recognized that he was talking, but he recognized that his brain was shooting in pain and he was having a million thoughts a second. He killed them. He killed those men. He was careless and forgot about gas masks. He killed soldiers and civilians even when General Hale had said that... 

A soft hand on his cheek quieted his thoughts. 

Hamilton was cupping his face and smiling silently at him. The look in his uniquely colored eyes was... Forgiving. And reassuring. And genuine. 

The clenching feeling in John's heart and mind stopped, and he was left with pain in his leg and the kid in his arms. 

It wasn't long before he was being carried away to be taken care of. 

_______-_______

"Sir?" 

"Yes, Colonel Meade?" 

"Our soldiers won the battle. They're on their way back." 

Washington looked up and looked surprised. "All of them?" 

"All of them, sir. General Hale and all. I say we greet them well," Meade smiled at the General. 

"You do?" Washington got to his feet. 

"Major Laurens deserves a heroes welcome for now. The best we can give. He saved a child and numerous civilians and his idea won the day, sir." 

"Laurens? Truly?" 

"Yes, but... Well, with a price." 

"What's happened to him?" Worry sprouted in his tone. 

Meade hesitated. 

"Well?" 

"He's injured, sir. His right heel will need emergency surgery upon return." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I'm sorry.  
> Secondly, thank everyone for their feedback. I love hearing your thoughts and comments. It cheers me up and keeps me going.


	11. Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Lewis and Clark Month.

"Careful. He's hurt. We don't want to hurt him anymore," Fitzgerald instructed and helped five other men pull John and the Mexican boy from the Jeep in his stretcher. He had passed out after his panic attack with the boy still in his arms, and the others couldn't separate them or speak Spanish. 

The trek to the hospital was short and the doors were flung wide open. 

"JAMES!" 

McHenry jumped from his spot next to a soldier and spun around to see John in a stretcher. He immediately lead them to the operating room and set to work on getting everything ready to help John and what appeared to him to be a broken heel. 

"What happened, Fitz? I need to know." 

"Laurens went after the kid and started running back when the grenade exploded behind him. He shielded the kid, I guess, but he paid for it," Hamilton answered and started to carefully unwind the boy from Laurens' grasp. 

John was clearly unconscious, obvious from the shallow breathing and heavy limbs. 

"Hola," Alexander tried. 

The boy looked up. "Hola." He watched Alex and held tight to John. 

"Como estas? Bien o Mal?" Alex asked, trying to coax the child to let go of John with his minimal Spanish. McHenry was strapping an oxygen mask to his face as Alex talked to him. 

"Mal. No bueno, no bien. Nada mas," the boy responded and started to get off of John and let Alex hold him instead. He had to gave been six or seven, surely! No more than seven years old. 

Alexander pointed to himself. "Me llamo Alexander Hamilton." 

"Alesandro 'amilton." 

"No. Alexander." 

"Alesanser." 

"Si." 

"Me llamo Meriwether Daniall Louis." 

"Meriwether Daniel Lewis." 

"Si." 

Alexander smiled at Meriwether and carried him away from the hospital just as John was getting operated on. 

_________

"I've missed you, Nathan," Washington chuckled as he hugged the blond man before him. "Have you had enough war for now? Is your thirst quenched?" 

"For now, General, but as you know, duty calls and I shall fight until I see it pointless. How are you?" Nathan Hale chuckled in response and hugged Washington in return. 

"I'm doing well. Better than I imagined I would be a month ago, but I suppose things are looking up. Colonel Fitzgerald and Colonel Tilghman have finally come out together, and it seemed more men in camp are catching wind of it and we're having to change quite a few files lately." 

"That brings up a question I have, George." They released each other from their embrace but Washington kept his hand on Nate's shoulder. 

"Fire away." 

"What rank is Benjamin Tallmadge?" 

Washington paused and pulled his hand away as he shifted toward the filing cabinets. He found the one labeled 'T' and found Ben almost immediately. "Benjamin Tallmadge, a major, male... Well, this hasn't been updated yet," he flipped through the file as he spoke. 

"What? What hasn't been?" 

"Classified information, I'm afraid," Washington said and started to put it away. 

"I'm a general as well, George, I'm not a child anymore. You can't hide things about war from me anymore." 

Washington turned around to look Nathan in the eyes. "This is personal. This isn't war. You'll need to learn it on your own, because I consider it wrong for you to disrespect the word of Tallmadge himself and to snooping through his personal file." He closed the filing cabinet. "He requested it to be kept a secret." 

"Fair enough." Nate leaned against the wall. "That brings me to my other question." 

"What is it?" 

"When are you going to confront Henry Laurens about his treatment of his son?" 

Washington sighed and started walking to his own office again. "Nathan..." 

"Please tell me! Perhaps I could help, George. This man, his son, showed fantastic bravery and selflessness on the battlefield, and we need to make sure that his welcome home when this shitstorm is done is not an abusive father," he ranted and followed Washington. 

As they entered the office and Washington took his seat at his desk, Nathan saw the papers on his desk. A number of papers varying from Adoption to Citizenship to Restraining Orders and Abuse claims. Nate even saw a handwritten letter from the senior Laurens himself explaining his disdain for his son's chosen sexuality addressed to Washington himself. The general quickly shuffled the papers to clean the desk and keep Nate from seeing things. 

"He... He'll write to you but not his own son?" 

"Senator Laurens is upset with John at the moment, and he refuses to contact his son until he 'has lost the childish mindset that he is gay and has a choice about the myth of sexuality'. He's essentially disowned his son, but he can't show it to the public because that would ruin his public image, and right now, all I can do is file a restraining order." 

"Jesus fuck..." 

"Nathan, I know it seems like a shitstorm, just like you said, but hasn't it always been this way? And we've still gotten through it." 

"Yes sir, we have." 

"So we can do it again." 

_____________

His head was swimming and as he tilted it, one side and then to the other, he saw blurred figures and white curtains. John couldn't feel his legs, but he remembered that something was wrong with them. 

"Major? Major Laurens? Can you hear me?" Doctor McHenry asked and leaned over him. 

John groaned in response. 

"He's... John's going to need some time..." 

The voices faded as John fell unconscious again. 

________

"Laurens? Don't you want to hear Mery say hello?" 

John carefully turned his head to the voice and opened his eyes. There, beside his bed, was Alexander Hamilton with the boy he saved in his lap. 

"He's awake. Es.... Habla Ingles, Mery." Alex shifted the kid on his lap. 

"'ello, J-ohn. Me llamo Meriwether Daniall Louis. ¿Como estas?" The boy asked and smiled at him as he did. He was clearly happy to see John awake. 

How long had he been out? 

"Hola, Meriwether. Estoy no bueno. Me llamo John Laurens," he mumbled to him and he watched the boy's face light up with joy. 

"Meriwether learns fast. It upsets me that we can't keep him with us," Alexander sighed. 

"Why not?" John asked. 

Alex looked surprised. "John, he's an illegal immigrant. Do you know what ICE does to them? We can't keep him here." 

"Well I won't let him back in a war zone. You can take him from me over my dead, bullet filled body. I'll fight for him even if it kills me, and knowing ICE, it will." 

Alexander's expression softened. "I'll make sure to let the general know this when deciding what to do with little Lewis here. For now, rest."

"His name is Louis." 

"Same dif. Sleep." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;)   
> Comments always appreciated!


	12. Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I would never vote for him again if it turns out to be true."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr url is general-wheeee

The humid air of South Carolina was not what made Henry sweat as he drove his bike back home from his photography class. The thing that made him sweat was not the heat, either. Instead, it was his decision to take his bike and do more activity than necessary instead of taking the red pickup truck his brother used to drive. 

John's old Chevy sat in the garage unused and gathering dust for nearly two weeks now. Not even a month. Nobody had even touched it or tried to clean the dried mud off of it. 

The Laurens siblings had all steered clear of it as though they might cry if they were reminded that their brother was sent off to perhaps die in the military and the academy that the senior Laurens had sent him to. Mary Eleanor, or Polly, had been most affected by it. She found it hard to sleep at night without John there to tuck her in. She complained that Martha didn't do it as well as Jack had. 

Henry Junior kept driving and tried to push the thoughts from his mind. John was gone. Gone for now. 

As he pulled into the long driveway of their house, he saw unfamiliar cars in the driveway and steered around them to put his bike in the garage. 

He opened the door inside as silently as he could and heard his father speaking with another man. 

"John is going to return and he will do so in one piece, I can assure you. I pray every night for him and for the Lord to help him and keep him safe. I'm sure he'll love to meet your daughter," Henry Senior cheerfully informed the two people standing in their living room. 

Henry Junior recognized the man immediately upon seeing his face. Mister Manning, an esteemed businessman who was determined to make Columbia, South Carolina even greater and larger than his hometown of Atlanta, Georgia. He was pitching for a lot of housing and parks to be torn down in the city to make way for new business-class buildings and skyscrapers to be built instead. Knowing that Mister Manning had all those corrupt plans and that Henry's own father was a Senator and businessman as well, Henry felt an uneasy feeling in his gut. 

"I would love to meet him myself. Perhaps once he gets back, you could arrange a time to meet with you, my Martha, and him, and I. He sounds like a lovely and hard-working young lad, especially deciding to serve his country by joining the military!" Mister Manning laughed. 

Henry Senior smiled politely at him, but Henry Junior saw right through it. He was scheming. "I'll tell you as soon as I get word!" 

"Well, we must be going. Martha has piano lessons and we mustn't be late," Manning said and shook hands with Henry. "It's been lovely, sir." 

"It wasn't me who has made it lovely!" Henry laughed in return. Faker, Henry Junior thought. 

"Oh Henry, you charmer." 

"Thank you, Senator Laurens, for having me," a young woman said politely, and Henry Junior realized who that was. 

Martha Manning. 

"Please, darling, call me Henry. Have a nice day!" Henry Senior called after them as they left through the front doors. 

Henry Junior showed himself. "Who was that?" 

Henry looked surprised. "You mean the Mannings? They just came to speak with me about the possibility of a business partnership. But that isn't important, Harry. What's your day been like? Are you enjoying the summer before your Junior year?" 

Dismissal of the topic. Typical. 

"It's been alright, but I want to know more. Why was Mister Manning so interested in meeting Jack?" 

"Harry..." 

"No, father, I want to know. Why?" 

Henry stopped at the foot of the stairs and turned to face his youngest son. 

"Mister Manning has offered the idea of a partnership if I let his daughter Martha marry John when he returns. Assuming he returns at all. Even then, he may not return in one piece, and Mister Manning said he wants an able-bodied son to support his family business, so I am going to get John back as soon as I can," Henry Laurens said and began to walk up the stairs. Harry followed. 

"But didn't John say he was gay?" Harry objected. 

That made the senior Laurens stop. "You didn't truly believe that, did you? Even if he was, with all the praying our church is doing and the distaste for homosexuality in the military, it'll be drilled out of him by the time he comes home. He'll be perfectly capable of marrying Martha." 

"Dad, that's crap!" 

"Watch your mouth—" 

"NO! Y'know what, Dad? I'm sick and tired of this! You hate gays so much, then send me off, too! I'm bisexual and I know because John encouraged me to explore my sexuality, so I kissed a guy from school and a girl and I liked it both ways, so I know who I am and I'm just... I can't...." Harry ranted and finally choked up. But then, Patsy, his sister, kept going for him. 

"You treated us all like shit, especially Jack! You hated that he wanted to be an artist or a doctor and you hated Harry for wanting to be a photographer! You treated everyone in our family like shit and we haven't done anything! You're just upset that you lost the love of your life to a lesbian!" 

Henry Senior was silent and still. His children were ganging up on him. 

"If James were still there, he'd tell you that John did nothing wrong!" Mary Eleanor chipped in. 

"QUIET! All of you, to your rooms! And Henry Junior, come here!" Henry shouted, prompting Polly and Patsy to rush away to their rooms and hide before something could happen as Henry turned and raised his arm up and landing a blow across Harry's cheek. 

Harry let out a cry and clutched the staircase railing tightly. 

"Henry. Look at me. I love you, but the Lord God did not make love to be between—" 

"FUCK YOU!" Henry Junior shouted and jumped to his feet, running to the door and hopping on his bike before his father could catch him. 

He was off the property before Henry Laurens could even get out of the garage. 

_________

The crutches were set to his height and the cast was tight around his lower leg. 

"Easy does it, John. It starts with baby steps," Doctor McHenry said as John took a careful step forward. 

"Like this?" 

"Perfect. Slow and steady wins the race. And don't ever have your crutches beside your feet. You fall easier that way. Make a tripod, okay?" McHenry corrected and caught him in time. 

"Okay. Slow tripod..." John breathed and took a few more steps. 

He heard a little click from his left side and stopped to see Tench Tilghman fanning a Polaroid picture. 

"Really?" 

"What? It's your first steps in the military after being wounded! It's a big deal!" Tench complained and continued waving the picture in the air. 

"Alright. Whatever you say, Tench." 

"Have you finished moving his things to our rooms? Him and Tallmadge?" Alexander asked from his other side. John kept shuffling forward with careful steps. 

"Fitz is finishing up right now and Kidder is watching Lewis for us. Washington still doesn't know what to do with the kid," Tench sighed and smiled at the picture. 

"That's because the General hasn't seen how determined John is to keep him safe and keep him here and—" 

"How many times do I need to tell you that it's Louis and not Lewis?" 

"Let it go, John. Nathan already wrote a file for him and his name in the file is Meriwether Daniel Lewis," Alex explained. 

John groaned and kept walking, following their lead to their quarters, where he and Benjamin were set up to stay. They'd both gotten promoted to Leiutenent Colonels, a step below the others. 

"Y'know, we should get a group photo of the new group we've got. All of us," Tench offered. 

The other three all agreed. 

________

"Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, and... Yep, bull... Shit." 

"What is it?" Nathan hummed from his place in the General's seat, watching him pace back and forth. 

George Washington only tossed the letter from Henry Laurens onto his desk for Nathan to read. 

It took a second. "NUH-UH! BULLSHIT!" 

George stood with his arms crossed and a smile on his face. 

"Can we file the restraining order now?" 

"Yes." 

_________

SENATOR LAURENS OF SC CHARGED WITH DOMESTIC ABUSE 

"Have you read this?" 

" _The Palmetto_ covered the story, too! Senator Laurens hit his son and he had the mark to prove it!" 

"Ridiculous! I can't believe our senator would do that!" 

"They're calling for his son, John Laurens, to plead his case! There's going to be a video call to reach him!" 

"Well I would never vote for him again if John says it's all true." 

"We just have to see." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated! I love hearing your thoughts and/or criticism! 
> 
> Also: Today in history, John Laurens was requested by General Washington to be on his staff as a volunteer. 
> 
> Also Also: All the Laurens siblings are LGBT+ in some way. Betcha can't guess what Martha is...


	13. Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And John smiled.

Tench Augustus Tilghman absolutely yelped like a dog when he saw the computer screen that Washington was pointing at him. 

It was a news article with a large picture of Henry Laurens framed right next to the headline _'SC Senator Henry Laurens Accused By Family; Eldest Son To Be Contacted'_. Tench didn't need to read much more to know what was going on. 

"Tench, I need you to tell John about this and make sure he's prepared to speak with his family about what to say. I've already approved CNN to have a video chat with him, but I won't make him go into that blind. I want him to know he's not alone," Washington briefly explained. 

Tench was frozen. He was gaping and confused, but after a few seconds of processing the words, he shifted into movement again. His fingers moved to fidget with the skin around his nails as he tried to think about his next words. "Sir, with all due respect, what the fuck?" 

"Will you tell Laurens?" Washington asked. 

"Well, I guess so, but—"

"Good. I trust you. You're dismissed." 

"But sir! John is already dealing with so many emotions from his injuries and dealing with finding a place for Mery and moving all around camp, wouldn't this overwhelm him? I mean, I know you want justice, but sir, this is just..." Tench stuttered and stumbled over words for a second, the anxiety of the moment overcoming his speaking abilities. "Sir, this is outrageous!" 

Washington stood behind his desk, flabbergasted to see Tench so anxious and unrestrained. Tench usually never acted this way. 

"Is something the matter, Tench?" 

"Sir, I just.... He's my friend, and I don't want him to be overwhelmed. I will tell him, but sir... I... Uhm..." The aide was practically vibrating, trying to find something in the office to ground him. Something to fidget with. "Fuck, sir. Fuck!" 

Tench began rushing from the office and sprinting back to his bed in their quarters. He had stored his things nearly in a plastic container under his bed, and he knew exactly where his fidget cube was. 

When he threw the doors open to the room and rushed through, he got various confused looks from everyone who was still getting ready. Alexander was helping John get his uniforms straightened out (which was awfully hard to figure out with a bulky cast in the way), Harrison was organizing mail for everyone, Meade was rummaging through his clean clothes for something to wear under his uniform, Fitz was stepping out of their showering rooms (more like little closets in the bathrooms, but instead of doors, there's curtains), and Ben was pulling his boots on. Tench bolted straight for his personal items. 

"Jesus Christ, Tilly, forget something?" Meade attempted to joke. 

"I feel like I'm about to fucking pass out!" He cried and grabbed his fidget cube. Tench then collapsed onto his bed and tried to calm down. 

John spoke up next. "What happened? I thought you went to see the General?" 

Alex nodded in agreement and began to roll John's pant leg up so that it wasn't tight against his cast. 

Tench took steady breaths and began to explain. As he explained the nature of the situation and what John needed to hear, he fidgeted more. He was not good at breaking bad news to people. That's why he was a secretary and not anything of importance. Well, at least _he_ didn't think himself important. 

When he was finished speaking, everyone was quiet and mostly waiting for John's response. By now, he was properly prepared for the day. 

John carefully reached for and grabbed his pair of crutches that were leaning against the wall. He pulled himself up to standing and turned to face everyone. 

And John smiled. 

"I've been waiting a long time to see my father finally get what he deserved. Anything they need to get him behind bars, I'll do it. Even if that means running a mile in a cast with crutches, I'll do it." John had a determined expression and a confident tone in his voice, and everyone else could feel the affects of his confidence right away. 

"Anything you need from us, too. We'll be with you, J," Harrison proudly declared as he puffed out his chest and crossed his arms. 

"Thank you. Now take me to Washington. I need to tell him that I'll be ready whenever he needs me to be." 

________

The heat of the day couldn't reach them at night.

Harry had been able to find a safe place to hide from his father with the Marion family, who'd given him the guest room and helped him get some of his belongings back by texting his sister Martha and setting up times to meet with her. 

Well, they met every other night at eleven sharp in Harry's room in the Marion household, their little club. The club was Martha Laurens, Henry Junior, and Martha Manning. 

Martha Manning was someone Harry had convinced to join by speaking to her (Patsy [Martha L] knows everyone and has a ton of resources and friends she can go to for help, so she called a friend and asked for Marty [Martha M]'s number) and telling Marty that he knew about the arranged marriage idea and asking her if she really wanted to go through it. After Marty managed to find time to get away from home, she called Harry and explained that no, she didn't want to get married to John and especially not for money! When asked why, Marty simply replied "because I'm a lesbian". 

So, after careful deliberation, they decided it was time to contact John. 

How? 

John's friend John White, who they'd texted and asked for help. 

White had agreed to help and supplied a list of phone numbers for various people who might manage to get them in touch with John. 

"Are you guys ready? This is the first number. Mister White said that this is the number to General Washington's office phone. It should be seven in California, so... This should work." 

"Okay. Call. Remember to put it on speaker," Patsy reminded. 

"Let's do it," Marty agreed. 

Harry pressed the saved number and pressed the button to put it on speaker. 

It didn't even complete one ring before somebody picked up. 

"This is R. K. Meade speaking from General Washington's office in the Southern California Miliary Base. May I ask who I'm speaking with?" 

Harry answered. "Yes, uhm. This is Henry Junior Laurens, Martha Laurens, and Martha Manning. We're calling to speak with John Laurens. Is he available?" 

Silence was heard for a few seconds, then some muffled sounds on the other end. Then the same voice. 

"Apologies, I had to speak with someone for a brief moment. He's gone to find John immediately. What's your reason for calling?" 

Marty spoke up. "We have news from the outside world!" 

There was a laugh from the other end. "Nice to know you've got humor, what with the situation you all have. We've been told that John is going to be contacted for a video call with a news station?" 

"Yes sir! So you've heard!" Patsy excitedly confirmed the statement. 

"Well, news travels awfully fast around here. We've gotta have something to gossip about!" 

All of them laughed. Then there were voices with Meade and some mumbling. There was one familiar one among them. 

"Kids, I'm putting you on speaker. With me are Tench Tilghman, Alexander Hamilton, Benjamin Tallmadge, Robert Harrison, and John Laurens. Don't say anything bad about any of us, alright?" Meade chuckled. 

"Jack! Are you there!" Harry almost shouted. 

There was a pause with only some shuffling and light clicking for a moment before John finally spoke up. "Yes. I'm here, Harry. I'm here." 

There were cheers that erupted in both rooms. Celebration that John and his family were in contact. When it quieted, John was speaking again. 

"How have you all been? God, I leave and it all goes to shit, doesn't it? I heard that Harry got hit and Patsy ended up being brave and standing up to father. Now you've pressed charges?" John sounded amazed at all that's already happened. 

They laughed again. Harry answered. "We're all safe now. We're pressing charges thanks to the news and help from the Marion family. Apparently getting a big red handprint on your cheek really gains people's interest." 

John chuckled with the others. "I'm glad you're okay. I miss you and I want you all to stay strong, okay?" He paused and Meade mumbled something the microphone hardly caught. 

"John, there's one there that isn't a Laurens. Martha Manning, I think they said?" 

"What? Harry, is Martha Manning there?" 

"Yeah. Yeah. It's a rough story, but basically, Father's trying to arrange a marriage between you and Marty for when you get back so that there can be mo' money. As if we're not making enough." 

John paused to take it in, and in that pause, Alex spoke up. "This is Alexander Hamilton, and if it makes you... three? Three. If it makes you three feel any better, you have an amazing brother and friend who risked his life recently and won a battle for us and you should be honored to know him. I know I am. But I also wanted to say that... May I keep speaking, John? I can't tell if that expression is you being angry or you being surprised. Maybe both." 

"A little of a lot of emotions." 

"Yeah. Anyway, I wanted to say that you kids... I respect you so much for managing to stand up to Senator Laurens and from what I've heard about the senator, looking him dead in the eyes and saying that you're not taking any of his bullshit anymore is a death sentence. You have my full respect. And for Martha Manning, who isn't related to John, keep his family safe, alright? They may be brave, but everyone needs someone to talk to every now and then." 

Everyone was speechless. Patsy was crying and leaning into Marty's arms. Harry just stared at the screen of his phone. 

John was heard again. "Marty... Keep them safe for me, okay? I hate to say this, but if I don't come back from the military, I'm gonna trust you to take care of them. You all stay safe. I'm gonna go before I start crying in front of all my friends." John was already crying, though. 

"We love you, Jack. You'll come back in one piece and we'll give you big hugs when you are back, alright?" Harry sniffled. 

"I love you guys too. Bye." 

The conversation ended. 

Harry saved the number in his phone as 'General W Office'. 

___________

John hummed as he sat down at their table in the mess hall. The usual places were Fitz, Harrison, Meade, and Alex at the opposite side and Tench, Ben, and John on their own side across from the others. The generals had their own table. When everyone returned with food and Alex placed the tray of John's own food in front of him, John almost shuddered as Alex let his hand lightly brush down the length of his arm, fingertips leaving little goosebumps. 

Oh God, John had forgotten how endearing this man was. He had to find a way to win him over, even if for a single night or a single kiss! 

"Thank you for getting my food. You've been too sweet to me," John smiled and picked up his fork, though he made no move to eat yet. 

"You're welcome, John. I don't mind doing things for you. Especially since you've been hurt and can't exactly walk around like a normal person." 

John mocked offense and gasped. "Your words wound worse than the grenade, sir!" 

Alex laughed. "Alright, I apologise. What could I do to make it up to you?" 

"Perhaps you could be even sweeter to me," John attempted to flirt, but it didn't work as he'd planned. Alex didn't look affected at all. 

"All you need to do is ask, and I'll be there." 

"I'll keep it in mind." 

With that, they tuned into the conversation the other aides were having. Something about discussing the various flavors of ice cream they preferred and which they might have after their days here were done. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief Warning: The coming chapters may feature content some people are not comfortable with, namely sex. If you happen to be uncomfortable with the story during those times, I apologize in advance. 
> 
> As usual, comments are always appreciated, as well as theories and ideas. :)


	14. Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Y'know how you said Catherine Livingston was your best kiss? I can change that for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter contains sex.

**VISION**

noun 

vi·sion | \ ˈvi-zhən \ 

b **:** a lovely or charming sight 

"I will have you all know that I have a fantastic gaydar." 

Everyone turned to look at Tench like he had grown some second head. He hadn't, unless you counted the hood to his shark onesie a second head. 

"I do! I could tell Laurens was gay right off the bat!" Tench insisted. 

It had been a week since John's call with his siblings, and he kept almost constant contact with them. They were still safe, but apparently, news and progress was at a standstill. Nobody was quite sure yet how to contact John Laurens and video chat with him. So, here they all sat, circled up but laying or sitting on beds in some fashion, asking questions about each other to learn more. 

"Tench, how did you know?" John hmmed. 

"Wonderful question! The first time you saw Alexander, you had just bumped into him, and the next moment, he was telling at you, but in that moment, there was a look in your eyes that gave it all away." 

Ah, yes. Alexander Hamilton. Over the past week, he'd grown to fall further in love with Alex, and yet he had no idea if he returned that love. John's pickup lines and smooth flirtations never illicit any response, and when he asks Alex for help with something, he usually chickens out of his previous idea, thinking it too cheesy or something. But John kept learning more about Alex. He learned the shape of his hand when he takes it to pull Alex around somewhere, and John had learned that he has uncountable freckles, like sparkling sand on a sunny day or the first snowflakes that fall and stick to black-paved streets. John had learned the true color of his eyes, looking into them so much by now. 

John learned the shape of his lips, which he admired so when he was talking. John had watched him undressing from his uniform one night and tugging his tank top off from under the shirt, exposing the muscles and shape of his back and arms as he pulled his clothes away. John remembered seeing freckles that seemed to spill down his shoulders and back and disappear into a place John never watched Alexander remove: his pants and boxers. John desperately wanted to know how far the freckles got, though. He saw the curve of Alex's legs and thighs and oh, his ass as well. Alexander was perfect in every way, as far as John could see right now. 

And he sat only feet away. 

"Alright, alright. I have a question," Fitzgerald laughed. "Who was your best kiss?" 

Meade immediately answers. "I grew up around horses and every day, I would kiss my favorite one on the nose. He eventually learned to kiss my own nose. That's my best kiss." 

"My best kiss was Meade," Tench said, causing an offended noise to come from Fitz. 

"Well mine was a man named Abraham who grew up in my hometown. We kissed once but honestly? I don't have much experience so... Yeah." Ben looked embarrassed. 

"My favorite was my wife," Harrison laughed. 

Alexander went next. "My best was a woman named Catherine Livingston. I had been flirting and texting for weeks and finally, she invites me over. She was my best kiss, but certainly not my best time." 

Everyone turned to Laurens. "I have no favorite. Probably Ben, but it was platonic." 

"Aww, thank you," Ben cooed and looked down at John from the top bunk. 

"Okay, so it's John's turn to ask a question." 

John nodded and thought carefully about it. Instead of treading lightly around the subject, he decided he might as well dive into the waters with cement bricks on. "What's the kinkiest thing you ever did?" 

The response was a bunch of groans and sighs, but Ben immediately spoke up. "Oh, I know mine! My friend Caleb and I once tried sneaking around our town together to see if either of us liked that stuff or something. It didn't go very far because neither of us thought we liked it, but I guess it was more of a dare than anything else." 

"Kudos to you for sticking through it. God, public sex sounds fucking awful," Meade groaned. "Okay. The kinkiest thing I have done yet was wear women's underwear to see what would happen. That's all." 

They laughed and Tench spoke up next. "I once had sex with a kid in a swimming pool. Not my best decision." 

Fitz laughed at that and didn't stop, prompting Alexander to go next. "I don't have a really out-there kinda story, but requesting my hair to be pulled would be it," Alex answered confidently and threaded his fingers through his short hair to emphasis. "I once had much longer hair." 

Harrison rolled his eyes and didn't join them in their questioning. 

Fitz answered instead. "The kinkiest thing? Probably wearing handcuffs. I used to date a girl that was into that. Our relationship didn't last too long." 

John shook his head and carefully rolled out of bed. He looked down at his heel and foot, which was all wrapped tightly in bandages and practically healed. It was still in bandages to avoid John moving it too much and therefore opening the wound, but he was still mobile and it didn't hurt anymore. He heaved himself onto his feet and smiled at his friends. "Dear sirs, I go to take a shower. Don't let my absence dissuade you, though." 

He grabbed his things and set off, leaving the men behind him chuckling and giggling at his old-fashioned words. When John was half stripped for his shower, Alexander stepped into the same room with his own things to take a shower. There were four showers, though, so nobody had to fear. But...

"I have something to confess to you, Alexander," John was saying before he could even stop himself. 

That got the redhead's attention. He stood and simply looked at John, waiting for him to continue. 

He took a deep breath and went on. "I've been making a lot of my feelings obvious and I've been trying to flirt with you, but I feel like you're either totally oblivious or you aren't interested." The blond rushed to finish his statement and watched Alex's expression. 

Alex smiled, and there was a sparkle in his eyes that John had come to adore. "John. Do you know how peacocks attract a mate?" 

That stumped him. John had always loved to learn about animals and their habits, but he had never really thought about peacocks. He only really admired their feathers, but he'd never gotten close to one. "Uhm... The males have bright colors to attract the females? They fan out their tails, and that's all I know." 

The shorter man was smiling more now. "Well, the peacock spreads his tail and shows off to try and gain the peahen's attention and favor, but the peahen doesn't show him any attention until the final act." He was smiling at John and carefully ruffling his shirt and smoothing out the wrinkles as he pulled it off. It was almost like he was ruffling his own feathers. 

After a few seconds, the metaphor clicked. "Are you saying that you've been acting like a peahen this whole time? You've known I'm interested and you were playing hard to get?" 

"Play dumb until the final act," he agreed. Alex was slowly stripping throughout their conversation. His shower shoes (which were just cheap black flip-flops) were discarded to keep from getting in the way of him removing his shorts. 

"Oh." John understood and he decided to push his luck. "So y'know what you said about Catherine Livingston being your best kiss? I think I can change that." 

Alex smirked at him. "Oh really?" 

John grabbed him by the hips and nodded, affirming Alex's doubts. Being this close, he could feel how smooth his skin was and he felt like he could see every freckle on Alex's face. The way his eyes looked like they glittered with glee. He pressed a hand to John's cheek and pulled him in and—

Time felt like it stopped. There was nothing but fitting like two puzzle pieces together and fireworks exploding in the darkness of closed eyes. The kiss was honey in summer, slow and sweet and smooth. The feeling of Alexander's slender hand on his own and the one on his cheek, a thumb rubbing against the small bit of stubble John had, and they were quiet, and this felt right. Even with how much his father had declared that the Lord meant for a man and woman to be together and that a man and man was damned to hell, this felt good and just and perfect. 

The kiss lasted a few seconds, but it felt like no time at all. 

"Oh." The whisper was quiet from Alex's mouth and it held more meaning than John thought he could ever know. He opened his eyes again and saw the expression there, just a look of awe. "You were right." 

John tilted his head into Alex's palm as a response. It felt as though the man in front of him had stolen his voice with just one kiss. 

Alexander let his hand glide down to the backside of John's neck, gentle touches sending a pleasant tingle throughout his body. Alex's other hand carefully travelled up to his neck as well, and after a moment, he clasped his hands there so that they were resting behind John's head, against his shoulders. 

"Do you want me to touch you? You had mentioned that the peahen only shows attention at the final act, so... What I'm saying is that I want you to verbally consent before I do anything else," John explained. 

Alexander moved one of his hands to his mouth. His breath was suddenly shaky and his eyes filled with tears. "Nobody has ever bluntly asked before. They always assume by body language but.... Oh God, yes, J, I consent. And if I get uncomfortable, I promise to tell you. But now, yes. Yes, I consent." 

That was all he needed to hear and more. 

There was another kiss, this time more passionate, but with it, sloppier. It was fiery and hot as though the fire that John had seen that burned in Alex's soul was transferred in an exchange of tongues and lips. Alexander's hands were back at his neck, digging in and clinging to John as the blond sucked on his bottom lip, adding teeth to the list of things involved in their passion. John let the hands on Alex's hips wander across his back, feeling every muscle and shape that he'd longed to touch and caress. 

Alex tugged himself away. "We should do this where nobody can see us, shouldn't we? I would love to keep going right here, but Jo—"

The shower curtain was tugged open and John practically dragged Alex in with him. The curtain was closed and in a split second, the shorter man was pinned to the wall. His neck was the battlefield for a barrage of kisses and bites. Both men knew it wouldn't take long for little pink and red marks to form. 

Alex pulled his hands away from John to finish stripping. When he was completely bare, he hardly felt the cold tiles and the coolness of the air conditioned room. John wasted no time at all in admiring him with both touches and vision. With hands and eyes. 

"You are more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. God, Alexander, I've been waiting so long to see you this way," John whined and started to pry off his own pants. He winced getting the left leg of them off and having to stand solely on his wounded foot. Next were his boxers. 

And then there was nothing but hot skin and wet kisses and hands that refused to stop moving. Alexander reached to the knob of the shower and turned the water on. John still had him pinned to the wall, but he would not— 

"AH!" 

There was a hand in his hair, tugging against his curls. Pulling his head in another direction. John took advantage of the space he had made by moving Alexander and started to suck a hickey in the soft skin behind his ear. 

"John!" He cried and felt water spill from his face and into his mouth. He imagined that happening with more than water, but that didn't help his situation. John's hair tugging and kissing and touching had made him eager to speed up. 

"What is it? Do you want to stop?" John practically let go entirely. He was only touching him by the waist now. His worried expression nearly broke Alexander's heart. 

"No, John, no. Just... Please..." He practically whimpered and tried to make his meaning clear. 

John kissed him again. "We don't have the resources we'd need," he mumbled in a terrible realization. "Fuck." 

Alex shushed him. "It'll be fine. We'll be alright. We've both been tested, we're both okay, and I can take a little pain. Don't worry. I'll tell you if I hurt too much." He mumbled and looked up at John with a soft gaze. 

"You're so perfect. I want to tell you that you're truly someone I like. I want this to be more than just a one time thing. Tell me if you only see me as a fling now so I don't make a mistake." 

"You're so much more than a one night stand. But fuck, John, stop making me wait!" Alex whined and John clapped a hand over his mouth. 

"Quiet." 

It took a little shuffling around but in a second, John was pressed to Alex kissing him to quiet any noises as he carefully slid in. Alex's hands grabbed at his back, fingers suddenly flexing to scratch at him. If John was leaving marks on him in the form of hickeys, Alex would leave his own marks in the form of scratches. Little grunts came from the smaller man as John slowed to give him more time to adjust. John was polite and gentle and still so strong. A perfect man. 

John whimpered against his mouth. He breathed out a quiet word Alex didn't catch but went back to his lips. Again, an exchange of tongues went on as each became more comfortable. As they went on, Alex felt John press him to the wall higher than before, slowly making it so that his toes could hardly touch the floor. Finally, when they were eye-level with each other, Alex wrapped his legs around John's waist. Upon doing so, he'd shifted just right and practically screamed into John's mouth. 

The blond Leiutenent tried his hardest to keep Alex quiet. He cycled between shoving his fingers in his mouth, kissing him, and overall holding his hand over his mouth. Water dripped down their bodies, cleaning up any trace of their actions. The droplets traced the edges and forms of muscles and never lingered on their bodies. 

It was hot but not uncomfortable. 

When Alex tried to start telling John something, he assumed what he meant and kissed him with renewed vigor. He kept moving and moved a hand to help Alex as well. 

It wasn't long before they were truly using the shower for its intended purpose (to clean). 

There were no words exchanged the whole while they were drying and getting dressed for bed, but both of them knew what they were saying to each other. There was a feeling in the air that gave it away. A simple 'i love you' that clung to the steam in the room. 

When they were both dressed, Alex leaned into John's embrace and just let himself be held. It was warm this way and he didn't want to let go. Unfortunately, Alexander started dozing off. 

"Sleep, Alexander. Give yourself a break and sleep," John whispered as he started to carry him to bed. "You're a vision, Alexander." 

The room was quieter and dimmer and nobody spoke until John was tucked into his bed and Alex likewise. Ben leaned over their bunk and gave him a confused look. 

"He started to fall asleep in the shower," John dismissed. 

Ben nodded and went back to bed. 

And John felt happy that Alexander did love him in return. _Like a Peacock...._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to @themodern-majorgeneral on Tumblr for helping me with this. You should all follow her and maybe me on Tumblr. My url is @general-wheeee. 
> 
> Thank you for all your support, kudos, ideas, and comments! New chapters are on their way. :)


	15. Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Get out of the tank!"  
> "No."

John nearly fell out of bed at the sudden sound of Alexander's clock ringing a loud as it could muster. He was still not used to it. 

"Tench..." Alex groaned from his bed. "Turn it off for me please." 

The shorter man only groaned into his pillow. Clearly, he refused. 

When nobody made any move to shut the damned thing up (on their day off, for God's sake!) then John gave in and got up. He pressed the button at the top of the clock to shut it off and moved it closer to the center of Alex's bedside table. The vibration from the bells on the clock had caused it to move further away. 

"Good morning, gentlemen! Time to get up! We may be on our day off, but we should still look presentable!" John declared, grabbing his clothes and started to get dressed. 

He heard a lot of shuffling of bedsheets and groaning and finally, people started to take the hint and get up. Ben was the first besides John to be on his feet and start getting ready. "If it helps any of you move faster, we're expecting our good friends Generals André, Knox, and La Fayette today!" 

Everyone was suddenly much more awake. 

"Really!?" Tench sat up and looked at Ben with his eyes glistening with excitement and sleep still clinging to his lashes. He was using his bedsheets to cover his legs and retain at least a little of the warmth that he'd built up. 

"Well, yeah. Knox called yesterday saying the artillery was on its way and that they'd met up with André and La Fayette along the way and they were expected sometime today," Ben recalled and pulled his belt out of the drawer of his clothes along with his uniform shirt. He was already in his pants for the day. 

Fitz jumped down from the top bunk and stretched. "Fantastic! Then tonight will be a feast!" 

Tench gasped and John turned to see that he had a look of pure joy on his face. "Pudding!" 

Harrison laughed from his own bed where he was getting ready. "Yes, Tilly. You can have all the pudding in the world that you want tonight." 

"What's the deal with Pudding?" Asked John as he started to tuck his shirt into his pants. 

"Well, our dear Tench Tilghman here loves it. It's his favorite dessert." Fitz was grabbing his clothes as he spoke. 

"And why's that?" 

Tench spoke for himself. "I never had it growing up. I lived in Philly and my mom and dad had this thing against the dairy industry or something so I never got it until I moved to New York for a while. I guess I'm just making up for the years where I didn't get it." 

"What's your favorite flavor?" Ben smiled and engaged himself in the conversation as he tugged his boots on. 

"Chocolate!" 

"You see, we all have our little quirks. For Tench, it's old school photographs and music and pudding. For me, it's collecting foreign currency. Everyone has little things that make each other different. What's yours?" Harrison pointed at Ben as he asked the question. They were both ready for the day. 

"Uhm... Well, I used to collect gemstones and stuff, but I haven't done that in a while. When I was little I'd also try to get a stuffed animal from every claw machine I played and collect those. I still have them in a box at my dad's house," Ben smiled. 

"Good!" 

Fitz shook his head. "Not everyone has quirks. I don't." 

"Liar!" Tench objected. 

"Name one!" 

"You collect bottle caps." 

"Oh. Yeah, I guess I do." 

"Well, what's everyone else's?" John asks, putting off his own answer for now. 

"I like to buy postcards and just keep them. I don't even send them, but every foreign country I go to, I buy one. I have one from the Great Wall of China," Meade admitted. 

"McHenry likes to keep stamps," Tench recalled and then turned to Alex. "Alexander, what's your quirk?" 

He just mumbled something into his pillow as a response. 

"What?" 

"I collected bird feathers before. Feathers and other cool things I found. I think my collection is still with my friend in New York," he mumbled again and finally started to get up. 

Everyone turned to John. 

"Okay, so it's gonna sound weird and creepy, but I like to collect signatures and sharpies. Like, differently colored sharpies, but that's not the point. Let me explain the signatures thing." Nobody interrupted so he went on. "I listened to one of my psychology professors in Geneva talk about the different kinds of handwriting and he talked about how much a single signature can define someone's whole personality. So, I started to ask my friends to give me their signatures to test it and see if the professor was right, and he was. All my friends had these different ways they wrote their names that explained their personalities so much! I still have John White and Chris Gadsden's signatures somewhere in my room at home, I know it. So... Yeah." 

Tench was smiling brightly. He pulled out his drawer of personal items and grabbed an elaborately decorated fountain pen and a little slip of paper. He wrote his name. 

Tench handed John the paper. "To add to your collection." 

John looked down at the piece of paper in awe. He admired Tench's slightly slanted handwriting and the way that he had let the T's in his name be pronounced and bright. Upon looking up at Tench, he saw the others frantically writing their own names down as well. 

"You don't need to do this for me," he insisted and carefully took the papers from them. 

"Well, we want to help add to your list of names. It's like Tench's Polaroid photos, but... It's a different more unique way of remembering people," Alex spoke as he wrote his own name down. He handed it to John. 

"Well... Thank you." 

"Men!" Washington cried from the door. "We have company!" 

_________

"Let me say, your English has significantly improved," André complimented as he sat on the edge of the Jeep they'd driven on the way to camp. La Fayette was unpacking their things from the trunk of the car. 

He flashed a bright smile at André. "Merci beaucoup! Let me add that you do not look a day older than the last time I saw you. Same beautiful face, mon cher," Gilbert La Fayette happily returned the compliment. "Now please help me with your things?" 

There was a sound like an old-fashioned car horn and the pair looked to see none other than Henry Knox standing with his head out of the top of a tank, a megaphone in hand. His voice then blasted through it. "Yeee-haw! Get out of the way, US Military coming through! USA! USA!" 

The tank quickly stopped near André and La Fayette and Knox stepped out to allow his driver to stumble out and towards their bunks. Knox just stood precariously on the front of the bulky machine. 

"GILBERT!" A familiar voice cried and before La Fayette could turn around to see who it was, Tench had already tackled him to the ground. They erupted into a fit of giggles and the older man pressed a kiss to Tench's forehead. 

"Mon cher Tenche! You have not changed one bit, Monsieur!" Gilbert pulled Tench into a hug, ignoring the fact that the pair were still on the ground. "I have missed you!" 

"Gilbert, you forget something!" Tench gasped in mock offense. 

"Oh?" 

Tench grabbed his face and pressed one kiss to each cheek. "Welcome to camp, Gilbert. We missed you." 

"You two saps! You're getting dust all over your uniforms!" Harrison groaned and started to pull Tench to his feet. La Fayette soon followed. 

André pulled himself from the car and hugged Harrison. "Hey, Robert. You sure are a sight for sore eyes." 

"I'm certain, considering that you've been away for forever," Harrison laughed. 

"Don't leave us out!" Meade cried and tried to push himself in between their hug. 

"Group hug!" Tench shouted, leaving all the aides with no choice but to embrace their military brothers in a tight and cramped group hug. All except John and Ben. 

They waited patiently for the embrace to be over. When it was, Alex suddenly remembered that they hadn't been introduced. 

"Oh! Gilbert, John, this is Benjamin Tallmadge and John Laurens. Ben is our new head of intelligence and John is... He's new to the staff and I'm sure you've heard what he's been going through." Alex gestured to both separately and they began to shake hands in a simple introduction. 

John noticed that André's hair was longer than regulation. His hair had clearly grown out from the required short cut of it, but he wasn't sure why. Aside from this, it was a neat mix somewhere between John's own honey blond and Fitzgerald's dark brown. André's blue eyes stood out compared to his dark skin and brown hair, but John was amazed by his handsome figure. It was the exact picture of a military man; tall, handsome, and rugged. 

And La Fayette... He was tall, even taller than John, and skinny and almost bony, but still clearly treated well. He wasn't malnourished or unhealthy. His face looked just right with a smile as though it was made for it. His cheeks were dappled with scarce freckles, nothing like Alexander's where they spread over his whole body, and his hair... A very bright strawberry blond style that maintained regulation and fit him well. The one thing that didn't seem to fit was his hazel eyes. Hazel eyes against pale skin against strawberry blond hair? Well, La Fayette still made it work. 

"We've heard of what's been going on with your father, Laurens, and let us say, we're with you," André smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. 

Washington stepped out to greet his fellow generals and let La Fayette kiss his cheeks. Then he noticed one man missing. 

"Where's Henry?" 

"Knox? He was on the tank last time I saw him," André answered. 

Washington stepped over to it and carefully knocked. 

"Come in!" A voice shouted from the inside of the tank and Knox's head suddenly appeared from the hatch at the top. "George! Hello!" 

"Henry, get out of the tank. Come greet everyone else properly." 

Knox's face fell. "You're not my dad." 

Washington stamped his foot. "Henry, get out of the tank." He was more insistent. 

"You're not my dad." 

"I am your dad, get out of the fucking tank!" 

"I'm literally in a tank and you're not!" 

"Get out of the fucking tank! I'll call La Fayette!" 

"Then call La Fayette. Bitch, I don't give a fuck!" 

"Henry, get out of the tank!" 

"No." 

"Fine! No hugs from anyone! Not even Tench!" 

Knox gasped. "But his are the best!" 

"Then get out of the fucking tank!" 

"Fine!" 

"Good." 

"You still aren't my dad." 

"FUCKING GOD, HENRY!" 

___________

"I don't think I ever actually appreciated chocolate pudding until I met Tench," John mumbled as he scooped another small bit onto his spoon to eat. He was on his third cup of Snack-Pack chocolate pudding cups. 

"Mhm. Tench can make you see the good in stuff." Alex carefully brushed his boot against John's leg. "How are you, J? After all that's been going on?" 

"Well, the video stuff is tomorrow, and I'm not excited about that, but otherwise... Things are looking up. We got this, yeah?" 

Alex smiled. "Yeah." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your support. I love hearing from you all and I want to hear any ideas you have. It might inspire me :P 
> 
> Also: When I say that Tench had sleep still clinging to his lashes, I mean the tried tears (I think that's what it is?) that you get during sleep. In my family we call it sleep kisses or eye boogers. Yep. Either really sweet or really gross, there's no in between.


	16. Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CNN.

John sat carefully in his seat, his new hat purposefully crooked on his head and his uniform having been cleaned specifically for this interview. His badges were shining to help make it clear his rank and minimal accomplishments. The camera in front of him was high-tech and corrected for the perfect angle. The laptop directly below it was displaying the CNN station live where they intended to show a full, live, uncut interview of John to the public. John needed this laptop to see the reporter who was all the way in DC. He had an earpiece in to hear them and a microphone attached to his shirt, though, all assisted by Ben and the other aides. 

"We now go live to our special interview with Leiutenent Colonel John Laurens in West Valley, California's military base. Leiutenent Laurens has agreed to let us interview him and ask him about his relationship with his father, Senator Henry Laurens, who's been accused with domestic abuse and lately, the family has considered pressing harder charges," the man spoke from his script and looked up undoubtedly at a monitor at John. 

"Good morning, mister Laurens. Thank you for letting us do this," another woman said. 

"Well, thank you for having me tell my story," John politely responded. 

"Leiutenent Laurens, how do you feel about your brother's accusation that he was hit by your father?" The woman asked. 

John took a careful breath. Diving right in, huh? "I hate it. I trust my brother and know he wouldn't ever lie about that, and I know my father to be a... Rather violent man when it he chooses to be. I don't think I ever expected him to hit my brother, though." 

"Has he ever hit you?" 

"Yes." 

"What would've made him hit you?" 

John took another deep breath. Alexander was watching from behind the camera and gestured for him to remain calm. "I told him I didn't want to be a lawyer or a politician. I wanted to be an artist. So he got mad and hit me." 

"Well, that doesn't sound at all like the Senator Laurens we know." 

"Well, you didn't live with him for over twenty years, did you?" John flashed a malicious grin. The aides behind the camera essentially lost their minds at his comeback, though they did quietly. 

"Leiutenent Laurens, is it true that Senator Laurens is homophobic? We were told that he was and thought to inquire with you." 

"Yes. In fact, I decided to come out as gay to my father, as I am, indeed, a homosexual man, and he responded by saying that I wasn't, denying my sexuality, until I insisted that I was. When he finally realized that I wasn't joking, my father hit me repeatedly, verbally assaulted me, pulled my hair and locked me in my room. He then sent me here, to the military, where I've learned that being gay isn't wrong. My father used to send me to pray-the-gay-away camps, private schools, Bible camps, and other things, but I think he meant to do the same thing with the military. If he couldn't wring it out of me, then maybe a drill sergeant could," John ranted and finally stopped. "So yes, my father is very homophobic and abusive and I will be doing everything in my power to lock him up." 

There was stunned silence for a few moments. 

John gestured Alexander forward. "In fact, everyone watching and listening to me right now..." He shifted his chair to the side to make way for Alex to be in the frame. "This is my boyfriend and fellow soldier, Colonel Alexander Hamilton. I met him and fell in love with him in the military and he's helped me through this process every step." 

John handed Alex his microphone. Someone on the computer screen was clearly gesturing for someone to cut John's connection. Alexander started to speak. "Hello, I guess. I'm John's boyfriend and I don't have much to say, but I have seen some of the things Senator Laurens has done to John's head, and I agree that he needs to be stopped." 

Alexander left the frame and John reattached the microphone to his shirt. 

The newswoman spoke up. "Leiutenent Laurens, you say the military allows gay men and women?" 

John nodded as he secured the microphone. "Absolutely. Personally, I say that if you have a lover in danger, you'd fight harder to protect them and win. If you get rid of every gay man in the military, you'd lose the way to protect the country. My dear friends Colonel Tilghman and Colonel Fitzgerald are both gay men, and Tilghman is the finest writer I've ever known and Fitzgerald is the sharpest shooter I've ever seen." 

"Pardon me, Leiutenent Laurens, but I have another question for you, if you don't mind." 

"Never." 

"Are you determined to continue dating Colonel Hamilton while in the military?" 

"Absolutely. I love him. Are you married, sir?" 

"Well, yeah..." 

"And wouldn't you do the same for your wife?" 

"Yes..." 

"It's no different." 

"Last question before we go, Leiutenent. How many charges do you intend to press on Senator Laurens in total?" 

"As many that apply to what he did to me and my siblings." 

"Thank you again, Leiutenent Colonel." 

"It's never a problem." 

"Up next—" 

The entire array of equipment shut off as the two technicians who set it up began to take it down and leave. 

The aides went crazy with hoots and hollers. 

"You fucking roasted them, J!" Tench laughed. 

"They deserved it!" 

They all stumbled their way out of the building, dragging each other across the camp to get back to their quarters and await their orders, shouting the whole way. 

__________

"Mail time, boys!" La Fayette declared with glee as he carried a number of packages in his arms and André walked in behind him carrying the envelopes and letters. 

The aides all jumped up (with the exception of Tench, who had left to go search for something) and went to sort through the mail. They all sat on the floor and La Fayette carefully grabbed a box for him from the pile. It was like some sort of holiday, pleasantly exchanging gifts and all. 

John ripped open a letter from Marty and was surprised to find a sticky note. 

_Hope you like these pictures I printed for you. We've all been having a good time. Hope you're well. —With Sisterly Love, Marty M_

John looked into the envelope and saw the pictures. They were much larger than Tench's Polaroid pictures, but they were perfect. Pictures of John's siblings and friends from over the years. Even a picture of James. James Ball Laurens. His late brother. The picture was perfectly framed so that the two brothers were smiling genuinely at each other, James in John's arms. This must've been before Mary Eleanor was born, then. They both looked so young. 

Tears rushed to John's eyes and he smiled at the pictures that his family had sent him. 

"J, is everything alright?" Alex touched his arm with gentle hands and a soft voice. 

John nodded and laid the pictures out in front of him for the others to see. Marty had even included a picture of herself and Patsy. "These are my siblings and my friends. You know John White, of course," John sniffled and wiped his eyes after pointing to a picture of him and White. 

"This is your family?" Alex asked and picked up the one with James and John in it. "Who's this with you? Is that your dad, or...?" 

John laughed to himself. Yeah, his father had always said John and James looked almost identical. "No. That's me and my... My little brother, James. Seeing him is... Surreal. He died a few years ago, when I was in Europe." 

Alex pointed at Harry, thankfully avoiding the subject of John's brother's dead. "Is this your other brother?" 

"Henry Junior, yes. And this is my sister Martha and her friend, Martha Manning. We call our Martha Patsy, though, and her, Marty. It's easier that way. Like White will sometimes call me Jack, because we're both named John... Harry goes by Harry because of our fathers name being the same," John explained and picked up a picture of his mother and John himself, only a toddler. He had smiled so brightly hearing that he was getting a little sister. "This is my mother, Eleanor." 

"There's no pictures of your father here." 

"Good." 

They both looked up to see Meade watching them and smiling. 

"Senator Laurens shouldn't be there. Y'know where he should be?" 

"Behind bars?" Fitz asked. 

"Absolutely." 

"I'm glad you're all on my side about this," John smiled graciously at all of them. 

They went about opening gifts and whatnot, Meade getting the new hat he'd ordered and Fitz getting a new onesie to match Tench. Alex had gotten a new journal to write in and new boots that he'd requested. La Fayette started 'ooohing' at his place on the floor. 

"I got it! Finally!" He cried and carefully unwrapped the plastic packaging. 

"What is it?" André laughed at his excitement. 

"I ordered a GoPro camera not long ago and accessories to film and things and it is here!" 

Just then, Tench ran through the door, dragging and little wagon of things behind him. He had a big smile. "YOU'LL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT I FOUND!" 

"Tell us before we lose our minds!" Fitz laughed at his boyfriend's actions. 

"Okay so I was cleaning out the storage closet because the General told me to because it needed to be organized and I'm the Secretary or whatever, and I found all this cool stuff, so I kept it and brought it here to see if any of you would want it, too!" He announced, looking way too self-satisfied. 

Everyone stumbled to their feet to see the treasures he had found. 

Tench laughed and grabbed a big, black, plastic gun. "I also happened to find paintball supplies, compressed air and all, in the closet. You're welcome. And I guarantee I'll kick all your asses!" 

They dug around and ended up separating and organizing the things they found, ending up with numerous boardgames such as Chess, Checkers, Monopoly, The Game of Life, Twister, and Clue. The other things included little metal soldiers (nobody was quite sure how old they were), old markers and oil paints, little stuffed animals, and a number of paintball supplies. 

La Fayette cleared his throat behind them all. "I have an idea, if you will listen," he offered. 

They stood at attention. 

"Paintball, but one of you will have my GoPro on your helmet," he explained and grabbed one of the helmets, sliding on the headstrap and the GoPro with it to demonstrate how it would work. 

___________

The protective gear war abandoned as the majority of the aides ruled in favor of going without it simply for the fun of it. Helmets and boots only, along with their camp uniforms, but that didn't change anything. Their uniforms were hardly padded well anyway, unfortunately. 

La Fayette had marked the boundaries of the little space they had with old orange spraypaint. They were going to use a part of their combat training space, some of the "forest", and some of the almost desert-like landscape. Perfect for training in all environments. They were ready to go, divided into two teams, blue and orange, seeing as they were the only colors of paint they had. It was four to three in favor of team orange, which was Tench, Fitz, Meade, and Harrison. Alex, John, and Ben were in their own team and had already decided to divide and conquer instead of attack as one. John would sprint as far back into the wooded area as he could, Alex would run to the side and hide near the buildings of their practice space, and Ben was expected to snipe off the ones left behind, if there were any. 

"Watch out for pot holes, please. If you do not return by..." La Fayette checked his wristwatch. "By one hour, when I will have Jean André sound an air horn—" 

André blew the air horn to show them all. 

"—then we will come and look for you, hoping you're not too hurt. Ready?" 

"Ready!" Everyone responded. 

"Go!" La Fayette declared and watched them all rush away to find cover. Nobody was foolish enough to start firing immediately. 

John sprinted toward the trees and stumbled over one of the pot holes La Fayette had mentioned. He hit the ground with a grunt but got right back up and kept going, running off to hide. When he finally found a decent place, a little ditch near the edge of the field of play, he sat and stayed, waiting for his moment. He prepared himself to use his sniper training. 

___________

Fitz and Tench were camped out together in a little ravine near the center of the area. Harrison and Meade had run off to do their own thing as partners. Tench was viciously scratching at his arm, clearly annoyed by something and bunching up his shirt to scratch it. 

"Hey." Fitz grabbed his wrist to halt his movements. "Stop scratching. Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine. It's just an itchy little mosquito bite. Nothing is wrong, but it's annoying. Let's get back to kicking ass." Tench pulled himself to his feet, only to get nearly shot by a blue paintball. Fitz tugged him down immediately and aimed his gun carefully at Ben's vague figure hiding nearby. 

They quickly got into a shootout, both getting shot and Tench somehow getting missed every time. Fitz raised his hand in surrender. "I'm down!" 

Ben raised his own as well and they walked out of the playing field together, covered in differently colored paints. 

___________

John had been waiting for what felt like forever. He'd heard a ton of shots go off lately and it sounded like they were getting closer, but he'd seen nobody. Was anybody out yet? Were they even? 

John looked around carefully. He readied his gun and wanted to see how far his paint would reach. He shot it and it landed on the exact tree he was aiming for. He didn't know how far away it was. 

A bright orange paintball whizzed by his head, and John ducked, readying his gun for another shot. He looked up and saw... Nobody. They were well hidden. John leaned back and his head hit the trunk of the tree behind him. 

He had an idea. 

John carefully wrapped his arms around this tree, holding his gun at the same time, and began to climb the tree. He was glad he had so much experience. 

When he finally got to a branch that would support his weight, he stopped and looked over the land. He was fairly high up. He wrapped his legs around the branch to stay stable and looked for whoever shot at him. 

He saw a figure hiding in a ditch not far away. He was slowly making his way to John's old ditch by picking his way through different spots of cover. But John had a perfect vantage point of the top of his head... 

Careful, and.... 

With a swift motion, a bright blue splotch landed on their helmet and they let out a loud cry. "HEY!" It was Harrison. 

Whoops. 

John remained in his hiding spot, watching Harrison leave. He still didn't know where the shot had come from. 

Minutes passed and there was a sudden eruption of noise from John's left. Gunfire. Then a yelp. And more gunfire. It was getting much closer. 

"JOHN! HELP!"

Alexander was running full speed for John's previous ditch. He was panicked and running behind him was Meade. 

John readied his gun and followed Meade's running, waiting. He finally decided to pull the trigger before Meade could catch Alex. With a single pop, the game was won. 

"FUCK! WHO THE FUCK!" He shouted and looked up at John's shit-eating grin. Meade had the GoPro strapped to his head and nearly covered in paint. Alex quickly laughed and cleaned the lens off. 

"John fucking climbed a tree to shoot at Meade!" He laughed as John started to shimmy down. 

___________

"Blue wins!" La Fayette laughed. "And I win footage for good story for later!" 

"Yep," John nodded and looked around at all the others covered in paint. "Well. A good day, wasn't it?" 

"Absolutely," Alex responded, smiling at John from a drenched orange figure. 

"Alex, that color makes you look pretty as a peacock," John winked and caught a glare from the smaller. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments always appreciated ;)   
> Note: even if you think you're not good at speaking English, that doesn't mean your comment isn't appreciated. In fact, it means more to me because that means that you liked the story enough to legitimately comment! 
> 
> Anyway, thank you :)


	17. Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit's about to hit the fan.

Meriwether Lewis was an official United States Citizen now, papers and all. Tench and John had spent all day working on filling out paperwork like a passport, change of address, immigration papers, and other things that were so complicated that by the time the documents were printed and signed and approved, it was past midnight and Lewis had long since gone to bed. John and Tench were the only ones left and they were both exhausted but pleased with themselves. 

"We did it, didn't we?" John mumbled as he finished placing all Lewis' paperwork into his own personal file. Lewis was an honorary soldier now, just by living in the military camp and having technically been in a battle. He was under the rank of Lieutenant now for showing military bravery and providing strong (moral) support. 

"Yep. All the papers are filed for Mery, the case against Senator Laurens, and the update on the personal information in the files of some others, like La Fayette and Hale. We're all..." Tench yawned from his place at one of the filing cabinets. "We're all good." 

"Good. Go get some sleep. I'm going to go for a quick walk and maybe kiss Lewis goodnight." 

"You'd be a wonderful father, John." 

John spun around to face Tench, who looked pleased with him. "Pardon?" 

"You just treat him really well and like a real father should. Not to mention you risked your own life and nearly lost a leg for him, but that's beside the point. My point is, you would make a good dad. There's a big difference between a dad and a father, and you would be a good dad. You're already changing Lewis' life for the better, and I think you should keep it up," he explained and grabbed his coat to leave. The autumn season was creeping into their lives in Southern California, despite how hot it usually was. 

John just stood, stunned. 

__________

Five days. It had really been five days since John had told his story, hadn't it? Nothing had very much changed in John's life since then other than the occasional chat from his siblings about how it was still a big story among the citizens and government of America. He still loved Alex and kissed him and made sure that Alex still understood that he wouldn't leave him like Alex was worried he might. Just thinking about their relationship made happiness and warmth blossom in John's chest, and he smiled. The little words of encouragement that they shared, their hugs and the smile that Alex had whenever John would pick him up just to embrace him tighter, the way Alex would curl up in their bed and let John wrap around him... All of it was perfect. He wished only for a better circumstance for all of them to be in. Somewhere far away from war and blood and mud and undercooked foods. Some nights their food was so horribly undercooked or stale or moldy, they would all agree not to eat. 

Things were slowly going to shit, and John could feel it as he started walking his way back to his bunk bed he shared with Ben. 

___________

The bed was shaking so violently that it woke Fitz up in a state of panic. He expected an earthquake or the sounds of bombings, but there was nothing. Silence and rapid shaking of the bunk beds. It suddenly occurred to him that it could be Tench getting off on the bed below him. And as his boyfriend, it was his mission to help somehow. So, Fitz carefully began to climb his way down. 

He didn't expect what he saw. 

Tench's face was drawn and he was mostly still except for the horrible shaking of his body. He was asleep, but he looked like he was in a nightmare. He was sweating and far too cold as well. When Fitz felt his forehead he knew something was wrong. 

"Tench? Tilly, can you wake up for me? How do you feel?" He whisper-shouted at his boyfriend and cupped his cheeks in his hands, only to have Tench open his eyes and look like he was about to cry. The sweat on his face and skin made Fitz want to cringe. 

Tench could hardly speak, but when he did, his voice was scratchy and empty. "I hurt." 

"Do I need to get a doctor? Maybe McHenry? Or is it just the flu or something?" Fitz asked and grabbed Tench's hand from the bedsheets he was under. It was clammy and unstable. His fingers felt so small and brittle now. He was never this weak before, either, but Tench had pulled his hand back in slow motion. Fitz prayed it was just an early case of the flu. 

It took what felt like forever for Tench to respond. "Help." 

Fitz needed no other warning. He wrapped the smaller man in a burrito of his bedsheets and then picked him up and began rushing him out the door. The sudden bought of noise had apparently woken Ben and Harrison, who looked worried. Fitz only explained with a simple few words. "We need a doctor." 

Stumbling through their camp to the hospital was not ideal, especially since Fitz was only wearing a white tank top and gym shorts and it was hovering somewhere around fifty degrees Fahrenheit (too cold by Fitz's standards and especially for Tench's current situation). The hospital was mostly quiet and Fitz found no McHenry. 

"Fuck." 

"Fitz, what's going on?" Harrison stumbled into the hospital behind him in his own tank top and uniform shorts. He had slipped on his boots as well. 

"Tench is really sick. I need you to go find McHenry for me while I get him into a bed." 

"Oh, look at you, getting your boyfriend into bed~" 

"ROBERT!" 

"Alright, I'm on it. No need to yell." 

Harrison left to go find him and Fitz found an empty bed where he quickly laid Tench down and tried to hold his cold hands and warm them. Too cold. He was way too cold. 

There was a little hope when Tench tried to squeeze his hand as hard as he could, but it wasn't anything near his usual strength. How had this happened? What happened? Why? Tench was such a wonderful person and such a perfect smile to see to cheer anyone up. What kind of hell had to be unleashed to take down this flawless man? 

A few minutes later, Harrison returned with McHenry, Ben, and General La Fayette at his side. They all looked incredibly concerned. McHenry reached forward and put a hand to Tench's forehead and checked his pulse. It wasn't strong, but by Providence, it was there. 

"He's clearly got an infection of some kind. I need to draw blood to see what it is and then give him proper antibiotics first. He needs warm blankets and plenty of water as soon as we can get it," he explained and started immediately to work, prepping the tools to draw blood. Ben and Harrison set off to find a nurse to help with hot blankets and water. McHenry placed a few blue plastic bags beside Fitz. The look on Fitz's face must've explained it all. "It's in case he gets sick. Whatever he has might make his immune system weak and he might need it. Besides that, I need you to move him into quarantine in case whatever he has can be contracted. We don't know what's wrong, so we have to be careful." 

______________

"The lab results are back." 

McHenry stood at the door to their living quarters with a clipboard in hand. He didn't look happy. All the aides and generals had been informed of the circumstances and Washington had given them all a day off. Everyone looked up, waiting for McHenry's next words. 

"Tench Tilghman was bitten by an infected mosquito which was carrying the Malaria virus. Tench was unfortunate to get early and rapidly changing symptoms, starting as chill and fever which quickly became nausea, vomiting, fatigue, sweating, shivering, fast heart rate, and mental confusion and disorientation. Because of the rate of his sickness, he's going to be airlifted to the nearest hospital to receive more care than we can provide here. We don't have the antibiotics he needs. He's leaving in just a few minutes. I suggest saying goodbye to him while you can, because... Malaria has been known to kill." McHenry stopped and looked up at everyone. It was quiet and nobody wanted to say what they were thinking. 

All at once, they simply began to file out of the door to go see their friend. It was still dark outside. 

________________

"Careful with that IV, alright? It's all the antibiotics we can give him right now," Doctor Warren was explaining to one of the men who was helping move Tench toward the awaiting helicopter. It was already whirring to life, ready to take their friend away. 

Tench was asleep, possibly passed out, and in no condition to say his goodbyes. 

All the group could do was watch them load the medical equipment and Tench himself into the helicopter and leave. 

The helicopter was out of sight before five minutes had passed. 

________________

Mery was running toward John at full speed. "Catch me!" 

John smiled at the boy and knelt down onto one knee. "Oh no, I'm right in his path! He's gonna knock me over!" He laughed and waited for Lewis to get closer before he opened out his arms for him. 

He jumped and John caught him in his arms, standing back up before Mery could let go. "Got you, John!" He laughed and held his arms tightly around John's neck. 

"Yep. You got me. How was your English study today?" John asked and started carrying him away. Mery Lewis began clambering over John to sit on his shoulders. 

"It was alright. I like it better when Tilly teaches me, though. Alex isn't as funny as Tilly," he mumbled and leaned against John's head. 

"Well, don't let Alex hear that, because he might be offended if you tell him." 

"Where'd Tilly go?" 

John had hoped he wouldn't ask that question. He quickly threw out a quick excuse. "He had to go visit family. All the way in Pennsylvania. It's on the other side of the country." 

"When I ask if I can visit my family, you always say no. How come Tilly gets to?" 

"Because you're different. And Tench hasn't seen his family in a long, long time." 

"'mkay." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did research. Expect more sad. Please comment. Thank you, lovelies :)


	18. Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wake Up and Smell The War.

_"Your mother is dead. She's... gone. For good, this time. She was sick and we thought she was getting better but Jack, she isn't coming back. I'm going to tell your siblings but I need you to be strong for me."_

_The tears in John's eyes displayed the emotional torment he was in. A hurricane of grief had built up so fast and finally, it was letting itself lose in his mind. Devastation was all that was left once the reality finally hit him that his father wouldn't lie about things like this to him._

_"Jack, don't cry, boy. Please. You're too old to cry. You're a strong young man and you can show it now, can't you? We need to be strong. It's what your mother would've wanted." Henry wiped John's tears away and smiled softly at him. "Think about what your mother would want, John."_

______________

"Battle plans are set in stone and ready. We leave in one hour, so I need all of you ready by then. I know that you're all upset about Tench being gone, but that's why I've asked a talented man from Nathan's division to come to help us in his place," Washington said and spoke to the whole room that was full of aides. 

The life had drained out of camp without Tench there. They had all stopped smiling at each other for no reason, they'd stopped singing their morning song, and Fitz had even taken hours at a time where he would completely close himself off from the others and just lay in bed. He would always be awake, but never responsive. In addition, Alex and John were busier and therefore had less time to help Lewis with his English lessons. They could hardly find any time to get away just for themselves and feel grateful that, Providence be damned, they still had each other. 

John thought about how he felt when his mother died. It wasn't unlike this. Or when James died. If all the color in his life was gone when they had died and he was just as attached to Tench as he was with his own family, he didn't know what he'd do if Tench died too. 

He already felt like he wanted to just disappear and die some days. 

He was clinging on the edge of a cliff, praying the little rocks didn't crumble under his hands or he might fall. 

John was spacing out so much he didn't hear his fellow aides' objections to the statement that their General had made. 

"Sir, you can't replace Tench! If he comes back, what would he think? He'll think that you've replaced him for good! He'd think that--" Harrison began and he was cut short. 

"Harrison, I know what he'd think. He would think that I expected him to die. I've just seen how all of you are becoming overworked without him and I think it's time we brought in someone who will relieve your stress and take Tench's spot for only a while until we find someone more capable or when Tench returns. It's temporary. We're meeting this new man today at the battlefield," Washington explained and turned to go back into his office. 

Alex looked over to John with a withering expression. "He's replacing him." 

John nodded. "He doesn't expect him to come back. He's trying to make us used to someone else in his place. He's trying to make us used to the idea that Tench isn't going to come back." 

With just those quiet words, Alex's breath hitched and John looked up to him to see him about to cry. 

John felt a little more of that cliff wear away. 

_____________

The battlefield was barren and untouched and five miles south of the border. There were no trenches and no pathways. It was just open desert and the tanks and trucks and jeeps were being used to put together cover before the real shelter was set up. It was unsettling to see a peaceful warzone. 

John jumped from his seat beside Ben and looked across the dirt. "How do you know they're gonna be here?" 

The face Ben made was a mixture of grief and happiness and guilt. "I'm the head of the intelligence department, John." 

"Who's the one who told you?" 

"An old friend. That's all I can say." 

They continued on and began setting things up and plans and dispersing into groups. Ben watched the horizon closely for any sign of change and the progress of their enemy. This time, there were no tunnels for them to hide in. No more rookie mistakes. 

As John went with Nate and a few other men to prepare for their expedition, Alexander stopped him. They both knew they wouldn't see each other again for a long time after they split up. They both knew the plan Washington had for them. The plan that took John to the enemy lines and the same plan that kept Alex in the safe boundaries of their temporary camp. 

Alexander looked at John and cracked a smile. "Stay safe and be brave, okay? I need you to return to me in one piece." 

"I'll do my best," said the other man as he smiled right back at the redhead. A soft moment where they could just be for even a few seconds was few and far between now that work had gotten in the way. 

"You're a vision, J. You're brave. You're strong. You're smart. You're everything you need to be for me. You're perfect," Alex gushed as Nate shouted for John. 

"I have to go. I love you." 

Both of them stopped. It was the first time either of them had told each other that they loved them. But it was so genuine coming from his mouth and voice and they knew it immediately to be true. 

"I love you. I love you." John repeated himself. It was no less special than the first. 

Alex just jumped up and planted a firm and passionate kiss on his lips. John held onto him and dragged it out as long as he could, but finally, Nate's shouting overpowered his will to keep kissing Alex and he let go. 

"I'll be safe. I'll try for you," he kissed Alex's forehead again after his tender words left his mouth. 

With that, John left. 

_________________

Alexander was quiet and stonefaced as he stood by Washington's side where Tench used to stand. He was his new head secretary, and a Major Joseph Reed had taken the open space on their staff. He was sourfaced and bitter and his posture was almost too rigid like he was a rubber band that might snap in half at any second. He was definitely quite the character in Alex's eyes and he didn't like him, especially since Meade had tried to crack a joke to Reed and he hadn't smiled one bit. His frown was everpresent and unfortunately contagious. 

"Reed, I need you to make copies and records of every transmission we receive during this battle. I want to know every little thing and have it all documented. No opinions, either. Just fact," Washington demanded and set Reed to it. Meade was sitting beside him by the truck which had all the communications in it and answering any call people had. He didn't look pleased to be sitting beside Reed. 

"Sir, all troops are in their places and our artillery is ready to fire. The enemy is on their way as we speak. Should we prepare for our attack?" Fitzgerald asked and distractedly reached for the pistol at his hip. He was stressed and clearly apprehensive. 

"Is something wrong, Fitz?" 

"Sir, I'm worried about the source of Ben's intelligence. Are we certain it's accurate? The number of troops that the Mexican army brought looks much larger than what we anticipated from our view," Fitz admitted. 

"I trust Ben and his source. Go tell Knox and Harrison that we're ready to begin our attack. Hale and Laurens will attempt to find a way to attack them from their rear and I'm certain they can do it." 

Alexander, however, was not so certain. 

___________

"Alright. Once the artillery begins the first bombing, we're going through the smoke, around their flank, and bombing the rear of their forces. Good luck. Stay strong. Stay unpredictable," Nate reminded and prepared to lead their group of fifty men on their little mission. 

"If we get lost?" 

"Get lost and run. Run from the enemy. We'll find you later." 

____________

It was early that the enemy was ready for full war, and the Americans had a real fight on their hands.

John was sprinting through the smoke that was filling the air as cannons split the dirt and guns cracked in individual shots. He had quickly lost his group and his way and now he didn't know who was a friend and who was a foe and he was stuck in both friendly and enemy fire and now he couldn't---

His thoughts were cut short as something sharp pierced itself through his side. It was hooked and sharp and whatever it was, John could feel it going in one side and out the other just at the right side of his midsection as he fell. He collapsed on the ground and screamed a bloodcurdling sound that he had never heard before in his life and it shook him down to the core just by the mere agony in his own voice. 

Suddenly, there was a tugging from the object in his side and the serrated hooks on the tool tugged at his skin and muscle. John screamed and fumbled for his wire-clippers. In a split moment, the movement ceased and he was certain that the rope or whatever it was returned to its owner without its... He looked down to see what was sticking out of his uniform. A spear of some kind that might be shot from a speargun for sharks is what he found. It was already soaked in John's blood. 

But now that he was free, he thought, he had to get up. 

So he did. John pushed himself to his feet and started to run in the opposite direction from the place the spear was shot from. 

He didn't get far before the bullet tore through his shoulder, right where it bends. John cried out in another scream similar to the other one that he had made before. He screamed even louder as the spear stuck in his side hit the ground and tore his wound open so that it was bigger. The rush of adrenaline and the shock of pain and the fear that he might not get back all hit him at once and he found the rush of stress almost... peaceful. 

John carefully rolled onto his uninjured side and looked up at the sky. The area was already darkening from the smoke and dust and explosions. The bullets seemed to be dancing with each other in the air. It was sobering to see peace in war. He vaguely thought he heard somebody crying out for him, but maybe... Was he just overthinking it? 

In a moment of sheer willpower and determination, John clutched the ground and tried to pull himself up, but he couldn't. No. The movement here was aggravating his side wound too much and he quickly collapsed again in pain. He didn't know he was screaming or crying, but he did know damn well that he was thinking of his family. Henry Junior and Martha and Mary Eleanor and Marty may all need to go through the trial of Henry Laurens without their big brother. It broke John's heart to think about that. The promise that Alexander had made to take care of his family and siblings might genuinely become a reality. The thought both soothed and terrified John. 

In less than a minute, John succumbed to the darkness that was clouding the edge of his vision. The darkness that had been caused by pain and blood loss. 

As he faded, he swore he saw his mom looking down at him in the midst of the battle. 

_____________

Alexander looked around the little shack they had set up. He was sitting now, writing reports on the ammo they were currently using and what they'd need to refill once they returned to camp. The fighting was thicker than they had expected. Apparently the numbers they received for wrong. Alexander knew it. They were going to be destroyed now. Crushed by the heel of the Mexican army. They needed reinforcements. Air support. Something. 

"Sir, the numbers are in," Doctor Warren said and stood at the General's side now. "They aren't good. The number of men that need to get medical care are... It's high. The number of men already dead is also high. We didn't expect such a high number of enemy troops." 

"We need to wait for General Hale's return. Maybe he has more information," Washington brushed aside Warren's words. 

"Sir, Nathan Hale has lost contact with us. He isn't checking in anymore and when we try to message him via walkie-talkie, he won't respond. It's static." Meade mumbled from his place nearby. 

"And you just now thought to tell me!?" 

"It didn't matter until now!" The colonel snapped from his spot. He was clearly anxious. He didn't usually get upset. 

"I need everyone working on organizing a retreat so that we don't lose any more men," the General sighed and slouched a bit. He was resorting to his last option. 

Alexander jumped up and his mouth was running before he could stop it. "Sir, Laurens might still be out there and on his way back from his mission. It may have just taken him longer than expected. Can't we wait for his return?" 

Nobody looked at Alex. Meade turned his back to him and started to speak. "Lieutenant Colonel Laurens hasn't responded either. He went down roughly an hour ago and has yet to check back in. It can be assumed that he went down on the field like General Hale." 

Panic surged in Alex's chest. John wasn't responding. He was supposed to be back by now but with the danger of his mission, what if he really had gotten shot down and... He felt a million things at once. 

Reed spoke up in his bitter tone. "Laurens died on the field then. I'll make a note to check for him during the retreat and to see if he's just lost," he said. 

Alex whirled around and had a wild look in his eyes. How dare he!? Did Reed not know who John was!? Did he not know how important he was!? Alex stepped closer to Reed and raised a hand to strike him. It was stopped by a quick hand on his wrists though. He turned his head and struggled to get away and saw Fitz's familiar brown hair holding him back from hitting Reed. Fitz held him still. 

"Don't listen to him, Alex. I'm sure John just lost his communication or signal or something. He's probably okay. Just be optimistic. What would Tench want you to be like right now?" He said and held Alex close and still even after he had calmed down. He wasn't going to let Alex back at Reed. 

"Tench would say something like John's okay and I'm just being a pessimist. He'd say something like that to cheer us all up. But y'know what? TENCH ISN'T HERE! SO JOHN IS PROBABLY DEAD AND ALONE ON THE FIELD BEING FILLED WITH BULLETS AND WE MIGHT NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN!" Alex screamed and thrashed in Fitz's grip. "LET ME GO FIND HIM! PLEASE!" 

He didn't realize that he was crying. He was trying to get away and get to the battlefield and find John and God, he wanted to at least tell him he loved him too and he wanted to say so many things and he was stuck here with paperwork and goddamned Reed who was an even bigger pessimist than Alexander and he hated this shit and he hated the war and he hated everything and he just needed to find John. 

In the middle of his fit of screaming and crying and suddenly he was wailing for permission to go find John, he didn't hear the message coming from Meade's various machines. 

By the time Alex had calmed, for the most part, there was a frantic shouting, or more like talking, for help. Meade had put a transmission from Nathan Hale on speaker so everyone could hear it. 

"Please help us. We're in the middle of heavy fire. I need a medic. We need a medic. Please, someone, help us. Meade, my walkie-talkie was shot and I don't know if you can hear me, but I... I need help. There's... They have wire nets around their guns and I couldn't get close enough to bomb it and I can hardly breathe and I need help. I don't know where home is. I'm dragging John back but we're both hurt and I... I need help. Please. Anyone that's listening, I don't know where I'm going. We're both bleeding and I can't find the base," Nate ranted and suddenly there was a scream and the transmission cut out. 

Everyone was quiet. 

"Sir. We need to retreat." 

______________

The organized retreat was underway, and the soldiers of the enemy were stumbling from their own camps and trying to chase everyone else off. Nobody was quite sure where John and Nate had gone, and the bodies that just lay scattered and mutilated across the battlefield suggested they might have been bombed. 

Alex was still in hysterics as Fitz helped him into the back of their jeep. 

Suddenly, there was a cry for help. It was loud and sharp and it was strangled, but it was undoubtedly a cry for help. 

The four men, Warren, Fitz, Meade, and Alex, all stopped their little car and looked around the smoky field for where the cry had come from. 

It came again, quieter this time. 

Fitzgerald jumped from his seat and began to sprint to a crater that wasn't too far away towards the less-fought area of the battlefield. The cry came again and it was clear now that Fitz was heading in the right direction. 

The jeep followed the man and Warren made a quick request for a medical truck to follow them. They were going to find someone who was hurt. 

Fitz stopped around some brush and stopped. Nathan Hale was stuck in the brush with a barbed wire trap wrapped around his neck and the harder he pulled it to get it free, the tighter it got around his neck. The wail he made was getting worse the harder he had tried to escape. It was obvious what happened. A bomb had gone off and thrown him forward into the bushes to get stuck. Fitz quickly untangled him from the bushes and helped him up to get to the medical truck. He was badly burned on his face from what was apparently from a flamethrower. He needed help. 

Alex stood up in his seat and looked at the bomb crater. There was a body. 

He stumbled out of the jeep and got closer. 

The face he saw was undeniably John. 

But he was shot in his shoulder and a spear had embedded itself in his side, not to mention all the places where he had clearly been burned or knicked by flames and bombs. His face was going to be scarred, as well as a lot of his arms and legs and so much of him was hurt. 

"John, are you awake? Are you alive?" He asked and checked his pulse. It indicated he was alive, but definitely not awake. 

"Alexander, what are you doing!? We need to leave!" Meade shouted and got out to run closer. When he saw the reason for his hesitation, he shut up and began to help Alex get him off the field. 

John was alive. For now. 

______________

_"Jacky? Baby, wake up. It's just me. I need you to wake up. You have family who wants to meet you again. James and I want you to wake up. Wake up, baby. Just wake up."_

John couldn't. He couldn't wake up. He couldn't get up, no matter how badly his mother called for him. 

He couldn't even open his eyes. 

He couldn't wake up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, not sorry.   
> Please send comments telling me how I did. Chapter Nineteen coming soon! 
> 
> Stay safe and happy, lovelies! :)


	19. Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War takes its toll.

The straps on his wrists were tightened and as he continued to thrash, Warren tried to settle the straps on his legs as well. In a sudden moment, a horrible scream ripped through the air and made anyone nearby want to practically kill John for it. As the soldier continued to move in the midst of his feverish coma-dream, the two doctors working on him, Joseph Warren and Jacob Benning, kept going about their motions trying to keep John's IV and wires and oxygen tubes stable and in place and keep his bandages on. 

The only thing covering John's body was stark white bandages and a poorly tied hospital gown. His wounds were taken care of now, but the damage was catastrophic. His face was changed and burned, as well as the rest of his body, and his shoulder was limited in movement unless John wanted pain. The spear that had lodged itself in his side had taken three hours to remove and had thankfully not punctured any vital organs, but it had done significant damage to his abdominal muscles and it was safe to say his movement would be restricted for a few months. 

But the unfortunate toll of his significant blood loss and the nature of his wounds had sent John spiraling into a comatose state where he was unresponsive to any words or actions and all he knew were the nightmares he was being terrified with. 

Nobody knew what horrors he might be witnessing in his dreams, but one can only imagine the toll that war had already taken on his mental health. 

____________

"With the state of his fever and wounds, he'll make a full recovery in two months. By then, Tench should be fully healed as well and they'll both return to us and work. However..." McHenry reported to the office of aides and generals. "John is unresponsive to any actions or words, but his vitals are strong. He's having nightmares and dreams that require us to restrain him and make sure he doesn't hurt someone in the middle of one of his violent outbursts. The extent of his burn injuries is... massive. His entire body was covered in burns of varying degrees and they're in the process of being healed, but his eyes took a big hit and we aren't sure if he's ever going to see straight again." 

Everyone was quiet. Alex was held in La Fayette's arms as a reassuring embrace. Fitz and Harrison were both looking at anything but the others. 

Washington spoke up. "And Hale?" 

"Nathan Hale's injuries aren't as serious, but he's requested no visitors and full military discharge once he's fully healed. He needed surgery for the wire that was stuck around his neck and the damage it did to his windpipe, but he's able to speak and he's awake, but as I said, he requested no visitors. So... His expected recovery is in a month, and he's going to be honorably discharged and sent home," McHenry filled in, looking up at Washington and shaking his head. "He's done. He won't be going back into battle, and I suggest you discharge Laurens as well. His mental state took a big hit this time, and his projection doesn't look good." 

"So you're saying that I should send Laurens home because of his assumed PTSD?" Washington clarified. 

McHenry just nodded. 

"He already had problems from his father. I can only imagine what happened when you layered war on top of that," Fitz groaned. 

"He can't go home until the case against his father is settled. He might be called to trial to face his father if we send him home too early, so he's staying here for now," La Fayette spoke up. 

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, gentlemen, but we don't even know _if_ Laurens will wake up, much less _when_. So... Be optimistic, but keep in mind that his fight isn't over," McHenry reminded. 

Washington sighed. "I need to speak with Tallmadge right now. Everyone get back to work. This meeting is over." 

As Washington walked into his office, Ben followed him, looking guilty. He looked like he might want to die on the spot. 

When the door was closed, Washington began to speak. "What happened?" 

"Sir, the information I received was wrong, that's all I know. I'm meeting with him tonight to discuss it but right now, all I know is that the spy we have was wrong. I'm sorry--" 

"Sorry isn't going to bring back the men we lost, Tallmadge! It won't replace them in the families they were a part of and it won't help in the flags we send home! I want you to tell me what the fuck your spy did wrong and I want you to tell me as soon as you meet him tonight!" Washington shouted and slammed a fist against his desk. Updated profiles with stamps on them laid across the surface. 

**Kennedy, Oscar:** ~~WOUNDED~~ MISSING. **Quillen, Edward:** MISSING. **Lee, Payton:** ~~MISSING~~ DEAD. **Darling, Eric:** DEAD. **Trull, Oliver:** MISSING. **Anderson, Frederick:** ~~MISSING~~ DEAD. **Laurens, John:** ~~MISSING DEAD~~ WOUNDED. **Hale, Nathan:** ~~MISSING DEAD~~ WOUNDED. **Knox, Henry:** ~~DEAD MISSING~~ FOUND. **Fargo, Dean:** WOUNDED. **Tyler, Riley:** ~~WOUNDED~~ DEAD. 

"Sir, I will make sure your words reach him." 

Washington's eyes locked on the stamps on the files that had been struck out and replaced with a new one in some cases. "Who made these corrections?" 

Ben looked at them and knew immediately. "Joseph Reed, sir. He was changing files all throughout the battle as men left and came back. When Laurens and Hale became unresponsive and then the transmission was lost, he stamped them as dead men. He never asked permission, did he?" 

Washington looked up at Ben. "I never gave him permission to look at the files or change them. I never gave him a key either." 

"So he went into classified documents and changed them?" Ben asked in all seriousness. 

"Yes." 

There was suddenly one that caught Ben's eyes. 

**Hamilton, Alexander:** DEAD. 

He showed it to Washington. 

The General frowned deeply. "Find out what he's up to and make sure he gets thrown out of here once we have a valid reason." 

______---_______

"Abraham, you fucked us! You made us lose! What the fuck happened!?" Ben shouted at his friend and spy, Abraham Woodhull. The shorter man only looked ashamed of himself. 

"I got it wrong, okay! I fucked up, I feel bad and shit, but I'm sorry!" 

"SORRY WON'T BRING SOLDIERS BACK, ABE!" 

"FUCK YOU!" 

Abe was easily thrown into tears. He stared at Ben with an upset gaze. 

"I fucked it up. I wrote the wrong numbers. I fucked it all up. I tried and I fucked it all up. The men overwhelmed you and I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I fucked up and I just want this to be over. I want to go home and I want to just be done with all of this spying because I was not made for this and the one I'm trying to convince to help us isn't being convinced and I can't!" Abraham cried and gripped his hair and pulled to try and focus himself. 

"Abe, just... Relax. I just need you to be more focused and better at this whole thing, okay? Lives are at stake and the sooner we can end this war, the sooner we can go home. The sooner it's all done. Now tell me about this other guy." 

Abe started to calm down and told Ben about his friend in whimpers. "His name is Ricardo Los Tonson. He's Mexican and he works as the aide to the Mexican general and he and I are becoming friends and I'm trying to convince him to just help me end the war faster..." 

______________

Meade hesitantly answered the call he got. He was getting tired of this and it was only ten in the morning. He pressed the answer button and spoke into the microphone. "This is R. K. Meade answering for General Washington's office. What is it?" He asked in a harsh tone. 

The voice on the other end of the line surprised him. "Is your refrigerator running?" 

"TENCH!?" Meade cried and listened to the giddy laughter on the other end. 

"Hey, Kidder! It's been a long time and I'm happy to hear your voice!" Tench responded. He sounded strong and just like his usual, peppy self. 

"Tilly, what are you doing!? We saw you shipped off to a fancy hospital in Los Angeles or wherever! What's up? How's the treatment?" Meade asked and giddily put Tench on speaker so that everyone in the office could hear him. Fitz and Alex looked up and Harrison was already standing beside Meade. 

"Well I got a lot of antibiotics and they said I'm finally strong enough to call my loved ones and nobody in my family likes that I'm in the military and stuff so I thought 'hmmm maybe my military family would like a call' and now I called you and yeah. I'm doing alrighty I guess. A great thing about the hospital is that I can get pudding and pancakes and ice-cream anytime I want! It's amazing!" Tench gushed over the phone and paused. "Who's listening right now? Is everyone there?" 

Meade looked around and saw Reed glaring at him. "Well, we had a battle the other day. Nate and John got hurt and uhm... Washington called in Reed to take your place because he thought we were being overworked and stuff. So... We're here but it definitely sucks without you." 

"Hey, can I say something to Reed?" 

"Yeah, he's listening." 

"Pack your shit, buddy! I'm coming back soon and I want my bunk and friends back! I'm not dead, motherfucker and I'm gonna kick your ass out of my seat and John's seat and fuck you, bitch!" Tench said all too happily from his end and Reed sneered. 

Reed stood up and grabbed the microphone just as Ben and Washington silently walked into the room. "Listen here, you little goddamned shit. Watch your mouth because if you think for one second that I'm leaving just because you're coming back, you're wrong. I'm staying and I'm going to run this place soon and I'm going to run this war the way that it _should_ be run because all you assholes are doing it wrong. You're all moving too slow and you're all doing everything wrong. I'm going to run it soon and take direct orders from the president and make sure that the Mexican f*****s pay for everything they've done to us and the little shit that you've all taken in goes back across the border! He's no American!" 

"JOSEPH REED!" Washington shouted and grabbed the smaller man's collar. "Leave my aide alone right now. I want you and Tallmadge in my office immediately." 

"Yessir." 

They disappeared and Tench was heard laughing a moment later. "Holy shit, did he seriously just get caught because he was trying to drag me?" 

"That's right, Tilly. He's out of here and we're waiting for you to come home soon." 

___________

John had settled down. The voices in his head hadn't. 

He heard his mother, his father, his brother, Francis, White, his old friend Chris, and he heard all of the voices screaming at him while he was in the middle of a battlefield. They all shouted different things with different tones and different volumes. Then, the fighting ceased and he jolted up as best he could in his bed. He was awake, but he couldn't see. There was something covering his eyes. 

"Help!" He cried. His voice was ragged and his throat felt incredibly dry. "Somebody!" 

"Sir? Are you alright? Do you need anything?" A kind voice asked, clearly a nurse. 

"Get a doctor, please! Everything hurts, I need McHenry!" John whimpered. 

____

"John settle down. I'm removing the bandages on your eyes, okay? Can you see now?" McHenry quietly asked as he began helping John unwind the bandages around his head. His wrists and legs were still strapped down just in case. 

The white walls of the hospital came into view and John nodded. "I can see, but things don't look quite the same. It's... blurred." 

"Your vision was damaged during the battle, John. You're probably going to need glasses or contacts. How else do you feel?" 

"Pain." 

"I can help with that." McHenry laughed. 

"I want to see the others." 

"They're already on their way." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's one f-word I am absolutely never going to say or even type in this story because it is just wrong. At the end of the entire story, I'm going to explain the reasoning behind everything written, but for now, you'll all just need to sit tight. 
> 
> Comments are always very appreciated and I apologize in advance for any lousy spacing between the chapters. I'm back in school and I have to focus on that too, but I'm still spending time on my hobby, which is this. 
> 
> Have a fantastic day, you funky little readers!


	20. Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John wonders what he's going to do to correct his poor vision as politics spiral into chaos.

John lays half-awake on his hospital bed and smiles at the familiar faces (though they are quite blurred) that are entering the room, including the generals. He's still disappointed to see Tench missing and he's actually glad Reed is gone, too. It's the concerned expression from Hamilton, who's nearest to his face, that catches his eye. 

"Hey there, cutie," he attempts to joke. He carefully moves the hand with his IV to adjust the oxygen tubes that are taped to his face now. McHenry had insisted keeping the oxygen flowing easily for John in case anything sudden were to happen. He thought his face wounds decent enough to use tape, but John is annoyed at how the tube keeps slipping down a bit and makes a mental note to ask McHenry to help him fix it. The IV in his hand aches a little, as well, and he's certain it's bruised, but he can't tell. 

"Hey, John. How are you?" Alex attempts to smile at him. He can tell he doesn't manage to because it doesn't quite shine in his eyes like it usually does. 

"Well. Hurt. McHenry said I was lucky to live after all the blood I lost and the trauma and stuff. Sorry I didn't get back ~~\--~~ "

"John, you don't need to apologize. Nobody blames you. It was a problem with the intelligence, but we're working on fixing that," Ben said and cut John off. 

"I guess we didn't win, huh?" He sighs. 

Nobody answers, and that's enough of an answer. 

Fitz is the next one to speak up. "Tench called. He says he's coming back soon. That means Reed is gone," he happily said. The statement made John smile. Their friend was recovering and Reed was gonna leave for good. Good news. 

"Any other news?" 

Nobody had much to say. 

"We're just happy you and Nathan are alive," Meade piped up. 

John nods slightly. As much as he can without hurting himself, that is. "Nate saved my life." 

Everyone looks confused but also as if they know at the same time. John decides to elaborate. 

"I didn't even make it around their flank to bomb the rear side of their force. I couldn't find the end of their troops and when all the shooting started, I got lost." Suddenly terrible images are flashing through his mind. The feeling of shock, terror, and pain at the sight of a spear in his side. The blood and the second gunshot. It all comes back in surprising color. John continues his story. "So I run around in the smoke and I tried to pull out my compass or walkie-talkie but I couldn't find my walkie-talkie and my compass wasn't within reach without stopping and putting me in danger. 

"I didn't stop. I guess I just wandered and panicked, but then I felt this sharp pain and I look down and there's metal in my side on a wire. It was pulling and I could feel it ripping me apart from the inside out and I knew I had to snap this cable, so I did that and by then I'm in a lot of pain and bleeding out and then..." He pauses and remembers thinking Alex was calling his name, beckoning him back into his waiting arms. He remembers watching the bullets fly and thinking he had to get back. "I start back the direction I thought was our frontlines and I get shot." Writhing on the ground in pain, two wounds he's bleeding from and realizing that now he can't get back up without some blinding pain, no matter how hard he might try. "I just laid there. 

"I don't remember much more but sometimes I would see things like bright fire and bombs and I would try to think and get back up and move but I couldn't. Then the next time I wake up, I feel someone pulling me by my shoulders and I guess I wake up because he's pulling on the gunshot, but I scream and I see that it's Nate and he's carrying me to safety. He changes shoulders and he keeps dragging me as best he can and I think he was wounded, too, but I don't remember. He was talking on his walkie-talkie and I remember thinking 'where's mine?' and reach for it and then something near us explodes." A landmine. A landmine crudely planted in a rush which likely meant they were close to either the enemy or home. "Something explodes and I thought my body was thrown apart. 

"Nate is gone by then and I remember thinking I was gonna die like that." His mother's words and he remembers family shouting at him and the name of his brother. His brother, James. Jim. Jemmy. "I remember thinking I was going to die, but I couldn't. I couldn't die. Then I go out again and then I wake up and I just don't see anything. I just see white. I don't know what it was, but I heard voices and saw white and I swore I died. But here I am. Nate saved my life and I owe him something for it." 

There's stunned silence. John lets his eyes relax and closes them. Alex touches his good hand and he curls his fingers weakly around Alex's own, like how a baby might clutch an adult's entire finger with their whole fist. It's a sign to let them know that he's there. He's still alive. There's no rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor like a real hospital. There's no way to measures his vitals unless he's in the operating room. It's a fucked-up system, how the government overpays war but underpays the comfort and safety of the soldiers. This is the best way John knows to let them know that he's alive. Someone, likely Ben, puts a finger on his other hand, and John holds that too. They're warm and he relishes the feeling of warmth. 

_____________

"He's okay, guys, really. John just looks different, but he's alive and he's okay. How's politics?" Meade says to Patsy and Marty on the other end of the line. They had called asking about how John was and if they could talk to him. He was asleep and unable to get to the phone at all, so Meade told them what happened. 

"My father is trying to pass one last bill before he gets arrested. Wanna know what kind of bill?" Patsy says and she sounds furious. 

"What kind of bullshit bill is it?" Meade hums. 

"An anti-LGBTQ plus bill! It's a bill to make what he calls 'sodomy' punishable my death and or up to twenty years in jail!" Marty says. 

Meade stops and listens closer. 

"Here, I'll read you the article by _The Palmetto_. 'Senator Henry Laurens Attempts to Pass Final Bill'. That's the title." Marty clears her throat. "'Senator Laurens, recently made famous across the nation for the alleged abuse against his children and other crimes that are currently being investigated, is attempting to pass one more bill before he's removed from his office. The judge in charge of his case has already decided that he will be resigning his post by force, even if the allegations are false. The bill would have the entire state of South Carolina take a whole new, wild stance on being homophobic. Henry Laurens attempts to 'remove the plague and continue doing as the Lord would have it' and make any person in the LGBTQ plus community a 'sodomite' and criminal by arresting them and charging them with 'Crimes against the Lord' for being themselves. The punishment for the 'crime' is a minimum of five years of jail time or the death penalty. In a strongly republican and radical state, nobody is quite sure if the bill will be passed or not, but some suspect this is only another piece of evidence against Henry Laurens for his abuse against his sons for being homosexual.'" Marty finished and Meade hears a water bottle open from the other end, clearly, Marty took a sip after talking for so long. 

"There's another bit right below that, Marty," Patsy says quietly. 

"Right. Care to hear more?" Marty asks to see if Meade is still listening. 

"Sure." 

"Okay. 'John Andre Laurens, son of Henry Laurens, spoke with media giant CNN recently and the interview was absolutely shocking. The junior Laurens brought to light his opinions on his father and openly declared his love for a fellow soldier, his ideas of the army accepting people of LGBTQ alignment, and he exposed the crimes of his father, which is now official evidence for the trial of Henry Laurens as the media network has Laurens swearing-in, to tell the truth on camera before the live interview went on air. The young soldier, located currently in a military base in California, has become somewhat of a nationwide celebrity, and many people are declaring on social media that Laurens should be glorified for finally exposing his father's homophobic plans. Some major film companies such as Disney and Universal are coming forward with plans to contact Laurens once he returns from the war raging at the border and cast him for movies, varying from having Laurens be a voice actor or starring in a live-action movie Universal has no lead for yet. The future for Laurens is unclear, but what is clear is that he has become something of a hero in the U.S.'" 

Meade was speechless. Laurens. Their Laurens. John Motherfucking Laurens. A celebrity. 

"I'll send the articles in a letter to him or something, okay? Just tell John we said 'hello' and that we all love him. We gotta go. Harry wanted to meet us in a few. Bye, Meade." 

The line went silent and Meade got up to immediately go tell Laurens what he just heard. 

_____________

Nathan laid in bed, smiling at Ben. He couldn't speak much, what with how horribly his neck and throat had suffered from the battle. He just spoken in little motions and when he had more clarity in his head, he would write. The unfortunate side of writing was not being able to get words out fast enough. For now, though, he settled with holding Ben's hand. 

His neck brace itched. It was covering the incisions and wounds around his neck, almost like a kind of dog collar keeping them from scratching. It was a cone of shame indeed. 

"You know, you look very handsome right now. Blond hair, blue eyes, little bandaids on your face, and these pretty fingers. Look at how long and perfect they are! They fit perfectly in my finger gaps! And short nails, perfectly curved. Look at all of you! Absolutely stunning!" Ben cheerily complimented. 

Nate squealed happily, the only good response. He was overwhelmingly happy at the sound of Ben's compliments, especially since he worried that he would lose the man's love after being so horribly scarred. 

"Oh, you like hearing that? Well, you would love to hear the things I think and can't manage to put into words, then." 

Nate let out another happy noise. It hurt his throat, but fuck it, it was how he showed Ben he liked it. 

"Aw, cutie!" 

Nate smiled at him. He knew what Ben meant. 

The pair had been dating for a while now. They had both met at Yale and naturally, as if it was some famous book trope, they were gay roommates that quickly fell for each other. Since then, they had agreed not to leave each other and lose touch. Until... Nate was drafted to the Southern California Military Base for the Mexican-American Border War (stupid, really. Whoever takes office soon should end it...). When Ben was left behind, he had tried to keep in touch with Nate, but alas, the war was busy and hard to communicate in. But now they were together again and Nate was ready to return home with full military discharge. Ben would resign soon as well. Once he finished this damned war the right way. 

He was going to end it so that America suffered for her corrupt choices. Mexico had no reason for war! They were going to exploit this all from the inside out. 

__________

The white walls soaked up the light and sound as the blond man danced about, IV still planted firmly at the top of his hand. His t-shirt flowed as he danced to the familiar sounds of Queen blasting from a boombox on the hospital bed. A small suitcase was set beside it, stuffed with cassette tapes and CDs of music along with medicine he would need back at camp. _I Want To Break Free_ filled the short man with joy as he imagined his family smiling at him coming home to them. 

One of the nurses walked in and saw him still tugging on his thick camouflage pants. They were the only pants he had, and thankfully, the nurses had offered to wash them for him. 

"Ready to go home, Colonel Tilghman?" He asked and smiled at the sight. 

Tench laughed. "Like you wouldn't believe." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this! School is here and stuff is fucking messy. I would appreciate a comment but I understand if you don't leave one. I'm just flattered people are reading this!
> 
> Anyway, have a lovely day, beauties! ;)


	21. Twenty-One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the return of the golden boy.

The helicopter threw up dust as it carefully maneuvered onto the helipad, raising the attention of the soldiers and officers alike. Was anybody expecting someone today? Was it urgent mail? It was clearly not the president or local government. Meade strolled almost casually to the helicopter with the rest of the aides following him, all looking very curious. 

(All of the aides excluding La Fayette, who was busy, Nate, who was still in a hospital bed, and John, who was in a similar situation to Nate's.) 

Washington was striding behind them and wondering just like the others what was going on. 

It was once they heard _Good_ _Old Fashioned Lover Boy_ by Queen blasting from an old, bulky boombox that they knew who it was, and by then, he was beaming at the group and looked almost too happy for a man recovering from malaria. Tench, who had left looking like he could die, was now returned looking like a child who had just begun to live. His skin was no longer the ghastly pale he had been when he left and restored to his tan tone. His hair had grown out of the mandatory buzzcut and was pushed to one side of his head since he couldn't get it shaved again in the hospital (not like anyone had a problem with that). He still had an IV in his hand and an IV bag in the helicopter to go with it, but he looked mostly okay. 

Someone in the helicopter reminded him to be safe and careful when getting out and he replied with a thank you before climbing down onto the ground. 

Tench was immediately pulled into a hug by Fitz, who was laughing and clearly excited to have his boyfriend back. It didn't take long for all the aides, Washington, Knox, and Andre to join in a big group hug, but they were all mindful of his IV and the nurse who had helped transport him back to camp. There was a buzz of words, but they all centered around how happy they were for him to be back. Of course, their little writing machine was back to help yet again. 

__________

As Andre strolled into the hospital room where La Fayette was reading John the articles his sister had sent, he noticed that John was looking better today than he had been. He was smiling. That was a plus. John hadn't been able to get out of bed at all lately, much less able to walk across the camp and see Tench. I mean, sure, he had only arrived a few hours ago, but it was a big deal and the camp was buzzing with news of a possible feast tonight welcoming the man back. 

Lewis had been inseparable from him (he hadn't taken the news of John getting hurt well at all) and they had been laughing and talking about Tench's fun experiences in the hospital instead of the traumatizing ones. Pudding cups and fresh waffles and watching the discovery channel for hours on end had been the highlights of his stay. But that wasn't the point. 

The point was--

"'The end of the Senator's reign has come to its end and the trial with it. As it winds down, it is becoming increasingly clear that the Senator will be facing jail time in the least. The jury is not taking the situation with his family lightly, and it's been revealed that Henry Laurens has abused his secretaries as well as they come and go. The more evidence that is revealed against him, the worse the case appears for Mister Laurens'. See, John! Things are getting better!" La Fayette smiled as he finished reading. 

"Indeed. Tench is willing to come see you if you can't be up to see him, John." Andre sat down beside La Fayette, who smiled more as he saw the other general. 

They were something of an item as well. 

"Gettin' good." 

"Indeed, Laurens," Andre hummed. 

"I wanna go home." 

The generals glanced at each other. John hadn't been told... 

La Fayette spoke up. "John, you are technically being forced. We... Uhm... You have been so injured now that you must return home. Full military discharge." 

John was quiet for a moment. "Alex." 

The tone of voice he used broke the pair's fragile gay hearts. 

"Lewis." 

Goddamn, this was awful. 

"Alexander's here on his own free decision. If he wanted, he could drop at any moment, and I'm sure he'd be more than willing to if you're leaving as well. Hell, Tench might follow. Nathan is going, and Ben is going to follow him once the war is up, so..." Andre trailed off. 

"Take 'im with me." 

"If he chooses." 

"I love 'im." 

"We know." 

"More than anythin'." 

"Of course." 

_____________

"John Laurens is going home and you're following him?" 

"Yes. Sir, General Hale is going and Ben talks about leaving once the war is finished to follow him, and I'm not needed here, so I want to follow John. Tench got sick and if he wants, he can leave too. All of us can, but we haven't. Sir, even you could but you chose not to!" Alexander pleaded as he stood in front of the General. 

"This is your choice, but Alexander... Please rethink this." 

"Why?" 

"You love him, yes?" 

"Yes." 

"Would he want you to follow him?" 

"I know he would." 

"How?" 

"Andre told me that John said he wanted me to follow him when he goes home." 

"You're certain?" 

"Absolutely." 

"I trust you. You know where the paperwork is. Go for it." 

"And you, sir?" 

"I'll wait until this bloody war is over." 

_________

Benjamin Tallmadge strolling over the border holding a fair amount of papers in his hands was quite a sight, especially considering this was an active war zone. 

Five men met him nearby. Two Generals, Abraham, Abe's partner, and an aide-de-camp to document everything. 

"Todos queremos terminar con esto. Si está dispuesto a aceptar nuestros términos, retiraremos todo y usted hará las paces con nuestro país nuevamente," one of the Generals said and Abe helpfully translated. "We all want to end this. If you are willing to accept our terms, we will withdraw everything and you will make peace with our country again." 

"Of course. Your terms? I will agree to everything as long as it is reasonable." Por supuesto. Sus términos? Aceptaré todo mientras sea razonable. 

"Primero, deja a nuestra gente sola en la frontera. No los mates como has sido. Respetanos igual que nosotros. En segundo lugar, ya no tendrá que decir en nuestro país. No más política. No más decidir nuestro comercio. Tercero, no pedimos tierra sino simplemente paz y subsidio en el país dentro de lo razonable. Nuestros documentos muestran el resto." 

They exchanged more words and then the agreement was made. 

______-___________

_**CNN: MEXICAN WAR ENDS - TREATY SIGNED BY GENERALS** _

_The war against Mexico was brought to a screeching halt recently when the Generals of both militaries agreed to meet and form their own treaty and decide not to fight against each other anymore. Instead, they are turning their guns on the United States government and the president himself. They say the consequences will be catastrophic if he does not agree to their decided terms and end the war._

_The decision is sudden and came from the same group of men working with John Laurens, whose father was recently declared guilty and is facing twenty years for it. The men are creating a new breed of activists who take matters into their own hands despite authority and the world is seemingly being bettered for it. The main man behind the treaty has come forward and anonymously said that they all agreed he should do it because he had seen the horrible battles himself and how it has affected not only his friends and people he calls brothers but the United States and Mexican citizens alike. In fact, he says, they took in one refuge recently and after the boy was granted full citizenship for an abandoned child weeks ago, there is no longer anything the police or I.C.E. can do about removing him._

_The president has yet to release a statement about the situation. All we know about him now is that he declared war because "Mexico wasn't listening to me, and I finally decided to give them a push to stop sending people our way. We do not need desert people in our free nation. Not the criminals and rapists in their country". It came from his Twitter account the day before he declared war._

Article written by: Anonymous 

_____________

The tanks are ready to roll out. 

They will march through Los Angeles and Hollywood to make their enemies know. 

The men of Northern California have yet to see war, and their General Horatio Gates and Benedict Arnold are not pleased that their war is not over. They will fight. 

The Southern Military Camp had no right to deny them a fight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told my friend I wouldn't update this until she updated her own story. 
> 
> Anyway! Enjoy this new chapter! Please leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Have a wonderful, stress-free day, beautifuls!


	22. Twenty-Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conflicts of Interest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cover art on my Tumblr. @general-wheeee

_And I saw fire raining down from the sky. Bullets and missiles alike, all falling across our battlefield. This was what soldiers called Man's Land, but all I saw here were boys dressed in costumes to look like men._

"Their plan is to lead their soldiers through the major cities of California and then into our own camp to force us to keep up the war. They want to fight and they wanted us to call for help to give them that opportunity." 

"Tench, you just got back to camp three days ago. You should not be back to work so suddenly." 

"Sir, this is a _crisis_. This is a _civil_ war now, and the lives of America's _citizens_ are at risk. I was allowed back to work by your own declaration and _dammit_ , I will work to save countless lives even if it means I go back to a hospital bed!" 

"Sit down." 

"No." 

The tension in the office between the General and his longest working aide was running high, and the debate about what to do about the army marching toward them from North California was the topic between them. They had already begun sending a caravan of jeeps and tanks toward Sacramento. Washington had already placed a request for his retirement from the army and he was reluctant to start another fight, but Tench was confident that they needed to push their own army back from starting up this pointless war again. 

"I remember seeing Colonel Laurens returning to camp holding Lewis in his arms. He risked his life for the life of one civilian. That's what I want to do. There are hundreds of thousands of people in the path of these ruthless men. Do you really want people like Lewis to die because you will not defend them?" Tench pressed. 

_Rapid beeping. How hard was it to breathe?_

"Colonel, you must remember your position and stand down. This is not a matter for you to decide," the General argued. 

_He wheezed and grabbed for something or someone to hold and stabilize himself. The machines around him blared and he felt like he couldn't move. His vision was horribly blurred with tears._

"This _is_ a matter for all of us! Your army is _crumbling_! Nathan and John are leaving as soon as they can both walk, and there's talk from the rest of us to follow them out now that the war is over! Sir, if they all leave before Gates and Arnold get here, there's no fight left to give and the war will only begin again. Meet them in Sacramento and tell them off!" Tench demanded and winced as he stepped a bit too far for his IV cord, which tugged at the needle in his arm. 

_Someone finally ran in to help him, but he was blacking out by then. He couldn't breathe. When had living become so hard?_

"It is an option, Colonel Tilghman, but I must consider better ones before moving on! Remember your place and _shut up_!" Washington snapped at him and pointed to the door. 

Tench froze. His general had never spoken to him like that. Never in the many years he had served him. 

"Fine." 

He promptly left. 

As Tench began to trudge through the camp and drag his IV behind him, he heard it: the wailing of a broken man. He picked up the pace. 

When he reached their poorly maintained hospital, he heard it louder now. He followed the noise and found him. 

John was crying out and bleeding from one of the scars on his chest. McHenry was rushing to make the bleeding stop and some of the nurses were trying to get him under anesthesia. 

"What happened!?" 

"We were getting him up on his feet again and the pain was too much for his heart. One of the incisions burst and now he's half-conscious and not cooperating and FUCK!" McHenry shouted as John swung a fist around to hit him. The sight of so much blood and his motions only making it worse was too much for Tench to handle. 

He stumbled from the room and gagged. 

_____________

Handcuffed yet again. Apparently he was very violent when he was on high-level painkillers. 

John looked at the bloody sheets he was still laying on instead of the face of Alexander in front of him. Even with his poor vision, he knew Alex wore a sad expression. 

He was blocking out the words around him. 

He was thinking of home. Gentle waves and harbor dolphins and the alligator that lived in the pond on their property. He was thinking of his brother's brown hair and the hug he would get when he stumbled out of the Charleston airport. He thought of the smiles from all his siblings, and he faded to sleep with that thought. 

_____________

Henry Knox took matters into his own hands and began to ready the tanks. All the Generals, Knox and Lee and Andre and La Fayette, had agreed to make their way to Sacramento and intercept Arnold and Gates, regardless of what Washington said. They were all getting ready, Fitz and Tench prepared to follow them if they needed it. The jeeps and tanks were loading up to go, and Lewis saw it all. 

He watched the bulky vehicles leave deep tracks in the dusty ground and he watched men with guns pack up big covered trucks. 

He knew what this meant by now, but he wasn't sure who they were going to fight. When he stopped to use his limited English and ask one man what was going on, he was met with a confused expression. 

Lewis stepped back and went to ask Washington himself then. Surely he would know and understand. Besides, where Washington was, so was Tench. 

He stumbled into the office without a second thought and sure enough, there was a heated argument between the two. 

"You aren't going to Sacramento! Nobody is!" 

"Knox is just as much of a General as you! Just because you run the camp doesn't mean that you can't tell us when to fight! This is an act of justice!" 

"An act of injustice! You disobey your superior officer!" 

"I _disobey_ you, but I go to _save_ my countrymen! You call that _injustice_!?" 

"I call that treason!" 

"This is not treason! This is justice!" 

"Sit down, Tilghman!" 

" _NO_!" 

"Knox is not going!" 

"Then tell that to the three other Generals that are going with him! Your most trusted men are going to stop them, and you cannot stop the four men of equal rank now that they've banded together!" 

"I WILL NOT HAVE ANOTHER WAR AMONG A CITY!" 

"THEN LET US GO SOONER AND WE WILL NOT MEET THEM IN A CITY!" 

"FUCKING SIT DOWN, TENCH!" 

"NO!" 

The argument ended with a swift slap to the inferior man's left cheek. 

The air was still and Lewis couldn't believe what he had just seen. 

Tench's hand flew up to clasp his swiftly reddening cheek and he gaped at how much it burned and how much of a blow that was to his emotions. 

He had never been hit before by anyone, especially not someone he considered a father figure. 

Lewis spun around to leave roughly the same time Tench did. 

That answered everything. 

______________

"Move out." 

Washington watched the men leave. He had finally allowed it after Alexander (calmly) explained Tench's logic and the reason for all of it. It was a surprising switch in personality for the two. 

La Fayette sat in the front seat of a jeep beside General Lee. They both waved goodbye. 

He lifted a hand to wave back, but they had turned around to follow Knox and Andre before he could. 

_______-______

**CNN BREAKING: CONFLICT IN CALI**

Northern California Generals Gates and Arnold threaten to fight against Southern California Generals in order to begin the Mexican-American War again. 

Generals Andre, Knox, La Fayette, and Lee are moving their men to intercept the generals before the fight can get out of hand. Due to the smaller Northern base not having near as many people, they are outnumbered three to one by their Southern counterparts. 

More updates will come as we receive more information. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and thank you for reading this chapter! I would appreciate comments and love to hear your opinions on how this is going! You guys always have interesting points. 
> 
> Again, thank you for reading and have a wonderful day/week, babes! ;)


	23. Twenty-Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homebound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Laurens is going home...

He was stable. He was finally stable. With McHenry asleep by his bed, John Laurens could finally sleep peacefully and know that if anything went wrong, his friend was here to help him. 

He imagined the fat raindrops during rainstorms in Charleston and the saltiness in the air. He remembered the sweet smell of Sweetgrass baskets in the old marketplace and the old wagons that rumbled down the road as if this was still the 18th century. The sound of cars and buses alike, busy as ever, but never as loud as New York, with all its honking horns and shouting. No, Charleston was much calmer and nicer and he may be biased, but it was better. It was still the racist and religious and homophobic port city it had always been, but John was used to it, and he loved it. There was still progress being made in the major cities of the South, and soon, he hoped, they would be more tolerable. 

He smiled at the thought of one of his friends getting into politics one day, taking the helm of the country, and steering them to prosperity. _Providence be damned_ , he thought, _they would do great_. 

He dozed off with the idea of Alexander dressed in a tuxedo and yelling at a room full of angry white men about how close-minded they were. A lovely thought. 

______________

The two armies came to a halt in the deserted space outside of Sacramento, California on an open plain which used to be a golf course (but was shut down due to the Western Golf Ban of 2020). Andre stepped out of the jeep he was in and stared at the two Generals only yards away. Everyone was quiet, waiting for some sort of order. 

General Benedict Arnold stepped forward. "You have some nerve taking our war from us, Andre." 

"Wasn't me. Take it up with Tallmadge at our base." 

"Ah, yes, lovely Ben Tallmadge, the savior of Mexico. What a load of bullshit. He's a liberal who was more focused on ending the war than winning it," Arnold spat and the pair were now face-to-face. 

"Step down. We have the upper hand. We ended the war. You're out of your mind if you think you can start it up again just to earn some petty medal." Andre snapped. 

The war some shuffling of feet against the dusty ground as Arnold attempt to swing a punch at Andre, but he missed and in a second the two were grabbing at each other in some weak attempt at recreating a fight. For two prestigious generals, this was awfully unbecoming of their rank. 

Gates and his aide, Colonel Wilkinson, rushed to help, only to be intercepted by Lee and Knox. Nobody else dared to disrupt the Generals all scrabbling at some imaginary win, all of them too stubborn to see the reason behind it. 

Until... Arnold had pinned Andre to the ground, hitting him with punch after punch, and in a clear show of madness, he grabbed the man's throat and squeezed. 

Only a coward would aim to kill his opponent. 

Still, no man got up to join. 

But La Fayette didn't have to. 

The sound of a gunshot split the air and the bullet whizzed by Arnold's neck, just grazing it and showing off the truly amazing marksmanship of the Frenchman. He had wanted to scare the shit out of the American General since he had disrespected his countrymen, and he finally had. Everyone fighting froze at the sound. 

Arnold was so surprised that he let go of Andre and stumbled back to grab at his neck. Hardly any pain or blood, but the shock of nearly being shot must've made him realize how foolish he was being. 

La Fayette smiled at him from the passenger seat of the jeep he and Andre had been riding it, flashing Arnold a view of his pistol, which was ready to shoot again. 

"You're serious." 

"No use losing men over a petty misunderstanding," La Fayette said and stepped out of the car. His dark boots contrasted with the new creamy tan color of their uniforms, which were much more fitting for a desert than the typical camo of the Army. La Fayette's hair stood out more than the rest of him now, and he was still smiling at Arnold as if nothing were wrong and as though he hadn't just nearly killed him. 

"You're insane! I could've died!" 

"And by you choosing to come to fight us, your own army, to reopen a closed wound with Me'ico, you could have died anyway. You took a risk, and now I think I 'ave proved that your idea was foolish. Go home, Benedic'. You are more of a coward than you think." 

Arnold stumbled to his feet and back to the rest of their little army. Gates and Wilkinson followed without a word, and the Southern California Base's men watched them go before they started back themselves. 

An easy win. 

_____________

Alexander and Tench watched the sun turn the baby blue into a deep indigo, painting a rainbow across the sky. They were both quiet, and there was a mutual understanding between them both that now that the war was won and over, they would be going home, but certainly not without each other. They were like brothers, and they would not leave each other behind. 

Neither man had a place to go. Tench Tilghman, once the oldest son of a family of thirteen and the favored child to a wealthy Maryland politician, had since been disowned by coming out to his family and expressing how he thought America was flawed and how he wanted to change it. Of course, they would think he was foolish. They were close-minded and easily swayed by the opinions of their southern counterparts. So Tench had spent his time since then in the military, far from the east and his family's grasp, but now that it was time to go home, he had no home to go to. 

Alexander Hamilton had climbed his way from the pits of hell on an unknown island in the Caribbean, working to clean scummy rich peoples hotel rooms for minimum wage after his mother died until it was enough to escape to the mainland. His brother had never cared to help him and left with his father when Alexander was still young, so he was certain James wouldn't be willing to help him now of all times. Hercules Mulligan was the one who took pity on him and helped him out, but he had since gotten married and had his own children, so Alex returning and asking for more favors was surely unwelcome, awkward, and would make for a crowded situation if he did happen to get accepted by them. Even so, they wouldn't take Tench as well, and he wasn't going to leave him behind. 

Perhaps they could live with John, but knowing him, he was going to have a hard enough time just taking care of his siblings and trying to run what was now his own household. 

Fitzgerald had no house or apartment, and he had joined the military to pay off his college debts. A marketing campaign that never paid back, and now he was scarred both mentally and physically and thousands of dollars in debt. 

Harrison had a wife and two twin daughters in Pennsylvania he would need to take care of, so there was likely no help from him. 

Meade had a similar situation to Fitz, but he had never gotten to finish college before he left to join the military. So he was still in debt and he had a relatively poor family that wouldn't be able to help them. 

McHenry was likely going to stay here and continue to help men as a doctor, but perhaps... No. They weren't close enough to him to ask for favors. 

Nate had a poor family in Connecticut and a law degree from Yale, but nothing more than that and some shiny medals for his work in the military. 

Ben had a small family from near New York, and he also had a law degree from Yale, so he may be able to help one or two of them. 

La Fayette would likely use his family's wealth to find a place once he left, but to their knowledge, that wouldn't be for a while. 

Andre had talked about going back to Philadelphia and finding a place there by the ocean was his term was up, but he never included anybody else in those wishes. 

Knox was going to go back to his home in Albany, New York, or so he said. 

Lee had expressed his wishes to the aides a while ago that he had wanted to go find a farm in the Appalachians and own some dogs and horses and just be happy with himself and nature and the mountains, and nobody had objected to his dreams. 

So that left the Washingtons, which was only Martha and General George. Their large property on the Potomac River would surely have enough room for the number of them who had nowhere to go, and Martha already considered them family, so perhaps until they got back on their feet, they would have a place for them. 

Alexander sighed beside Tench and watched the last sliver of the sun sink below the horizon. "It's been an honor, Tilly. I don't think I tell you enough how much you mean to me. How much you mean to all of us, actually. While you were gone, everything lost its touch, and I'm glad you're back." He turned to face the shorter blond. "I love you." 

Tench smiled at him and fiddled with the bandaid where the IV needle used to be stuck in his arm. "Thank you. That means a lot to me. More than you think," he spoke lowly and added his own 'I love you'. 

They stood together until it began to get cold and then they parted ways. Alexander went to sit with John and Tench was off to bed. 

Brothers. 

_The Military Family._

_______-________

**CNN: Hero Soldiers Returning Home**

Famous Carolinian Colonel John Laurens, who has been a focus on the news as of late due to his father's exposed crimes, is wounded and has been discharged from his service. With all the military honors he deserves, he and General Nathan Hale from the same base will be flying into Columbia Metropolitan Airport (CAE) someday soon. Fans of the man and local news stations alike, along with the families of the men, will be welcoming the pair at the airport when they arrive, giving them a heroes welcome, just like they deserve. Even though they've been in the US and Mexico and in their home country, this will be a big welcome home. 

________________

"The tickets are booked. We're going home, John." 

It was done. Nathan Hale and John Laurens, despite how wounded both still were, are going home in a matter of weeks, flying via helicopter to Los Angeles Airport and then flying to Atlanta and making their connection to Columbia. 

_We're going home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your attention and love! I tried to make this update a little longer than usual because my friend reads really fast as she needs to slow down. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you again for reading and stay tuned for Chapter Twenty-Four, which is actually in progress right now. I love hearing from you guys and all you have to say (good, bad, or just throwing me ideas) so please leave a comment, but just knowing that you've read it is always good, too. 
> 
> Have a lovely day/week, beautifuls! You're going to do great and you'll be a vision, too. Soon. <3 ;)


	24. Twenty-Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm coming home. Tell the flowers to bloom and the sun to shine, I'm coming home.

Tench kissed Nate on the cheek and mumbled a goodbye to him. He had a look of restrained sadness on his face and he watched the stretcher get loaded into the helicopter, the same one he had ridden in himself only a while ago, and John was lying half-conscious on it. McHenry was going with him to make sure their ride was steady and nothing bad happened to John. 

Alexander kissed him a clumsy goodbye and John tried to hold on as long as he could, but he was weak and wounded. 

The aides all watched as Nathan boarded the helicopter, fully healed, and Alexander stepped out. 

The door slid shut and the vehicle whirred to life. 

As the helicopter started off toward LAX, Alexander took off after it, ignoring the dust and how it flew in his face. 

The others began to follow. 

He knew he couldn't catch it, but he was willing to try like hell to go after it anyway. He was running to get John. Don't leave him. Don't leave. 

___________

When John woke up, he was being escorted off the plane in CAE. He recognized the glass and the small setup of the ten-gate airport and he looked up from his stretcher to see Nate walking alongside him, and unsurprisingly, he was being escorted by security and what looked like a doctor as well. People were looked and John was suddenly very aware that he was wearing his tan uniform, complete with dark boots and his medals. Nate must've helped him change sometime on the way here. 

There was suddenly a flash and John blinked the spots out of his already blurry vision. A camera. 

As he was pushed out of the restricted area and gathered more stares along the way, more people were taking pictures and videos and John was ushered away from them. He was lead toward the elevator to go down to the baggage claim, where he was certain his family would greet him and he was right. The heavy doors opened (the doctor had helped to sit him up in his bed a bit more to see what was happening) and he was met with more cameras and words and a jumble he hadn't expected. What a welcome home. 

"Jack!" Someone shouted and John looked around for the familiar voice. He saw his sisters and Marty and his brother. With them, John White and Francis Marion. 

John tried to move his hand at the very least to get to them, but he couldn't even move his arm without a jolt of pain through his arm. 

"Lieutenant Laurens!" Someone cried from the crowd of people, but John was ushered away from them and toward the doors. Their luggage was being loaded up into a car already, and with that care, an ambulance, to drive John back to his Charleston. 

White climbed into the ambulance with John as they began to leave, only for people to try to follow them. 

He really was a celebrity, wasn't he? 

"Welcome home, Jack," White said softly and set his hand in John's. The blond wrapped his hand around it. 

"Hey there, John." 

White laughed and squeezed his hand, a clear replacement for a hug. They couldn't hug right now. 

"What's with the crowds?" 

"You haven't heard? Jack, you're a military celebrity. Remember the movie, Hacksaw Ridge? You're more famous than that guy!" White had an exasperated expression like he would've expected John to know this stuff. "Jack, big movies wanna cast you once you're ready for it. Your siblings have gotten so much mail by now that they don't know where to put it all. The guy who wrote the movie Hacksaw Ridge wants to make a movie about your life now. Fuck, J, you're as famous as some of the cast of Disney movies!" 

"Really?" 

"Yeah! TIME Magazine, People Magazine, fuckin' Playboy all want you! You seriously didn't know this? Jack, this is our nation's biggest non-presidential news story!" White pulled out his phone to show John all the articles he had saved regarding the matter. "'Hero soldier puts criminal father behind bars', or 'Gay Soldier breaks the norm for American Military'. Your siblings have had to have their own phones off the majority of the time because people are always contacting them asking about you or the court case!" 

John smiled as brightly as he could manage. "I'll look at the offers." 

_____________

"Listen, Fitz, please. If you cut my hair, you'll lose all this wonderful charming blond-ness. Let me grow it out! I'm leaving soon anyway!" Tench bargained and pushed his hair out of his eyes. "Put down the razor--" 

"It's clippers, not a razor." 

"Put it down!" 

Meade watched the pair from his bunk as Alex was setting John's personal belongings up to be shipped back home. "You two are insane." 

"Not the time!" They both shot back at Meade. 

"Alright, fine. Fine. Whatever. Don't listen to Rich, he doesn't know what he's sayin'," Meade groaned and started to climb down the ladder as Harrison walked through the doors. 

"Alright, boys, have I told you about the new General and aide?" Harrison asked and looked up from his clipboard. 

"No, what's up, Robbie?" Meade asked and yelped as Tench pushed him aside as he ran from Fitz, who was still holding battery-powered clippers menacingly. "Hey, kids, watch it!" He snapped. 

"Your hair looks ugly that way!" 

"IT DOESN'T JUST LET ME GROW IT _OUT_!" 

"BOYS!" 

Tench rushed by his things and pressed play on the boombox stereo he had and at full volume, Boys by Lizzo began to play. Tench didn't stop his running. 

"TILLY!" Harrison and Meade both snapped at him and everything stopped. Fitz was cornering him so that Tench was standing on the top bunk where Ben was supposed to sleep and Fitz's clippers were slowly sputtering out of power. 

"Ah, fuck." 

"Haha! Tench is victorious!" He cried. 

"Are you two going to listen yet?" 

"Sure, dad." 

"I'm the same age as you!" 

"Yeah, but you're married. And you act like a dad." 

"Tench." 

"I'm listening." 

Harrison sighed. "Okay. David Humphreys is joining the office soon, taking the place of Laurens and presumably the rest of us who are leaving, but since the war is ending, more aides aren't necessary, therefore it's just Humphreys. We need to train him in place of all of us, which includes a fuck ton of paperwork and also files and... We need to rearrange files. People are dead, going home, and we need to do some heavy editing now." He paused and looked at the four in front of him. "As for the General taking Washington's place, he goes by the name Daniel Sampson, and... well, he's the first transgender general for us, but of course, he's just like the rest of us. General Sampson is another General, but he's being moved from a military camp in Missouri to take Washington's place. By what I've seen, he has amazing records, as well. He's set up to continue the greatness that our own General has managed to keep." 

Tench began climbing down from the bunk. "Alrighty. So we edit some papers, welcome our two newbies, and ship some stuff out. Sounds like a pretty normal day." 

"We need to buy Lewis a plane ticket to get to John." 

Everyone looked at Harrison like he was insane, but the tall man was simply flipping through his papers looking casual as ever. 

"Excuse me, but we're sending Lewis to the other side of the country without a chaperone?" Tench asked and made a face at Fitz as he emptied the batteries from the clippers. 

"Of course not." 

"Okay becau--" 

"You'll be going with him." 

Tench paused and groaned, his entire posture sagging as he did so. "Alright." 

"No argument?" 

"Nah. He's a good kid and I don't mind being with him, and if this means that I can go home, too, I'm down." 

"Optimistic, as usual, Tilly," Meade hummed and turned to see Alexander taping up the last box of John's things. He had a little shimmer in his eyes as though he might cry, but of course, he wouldn't. Not in front of the others. 

"Is all that ready to go?" 

"Indeed." 

"Alrighty." 

___________

The red pickup still sat untouched in the garage. It had gathered a decent layer of dust now, as well as some of the other cars near it, which were all more expensive and higher quality. Harry's bike had been moved out of the paramedic's way as they guided John's bed into the expansive home. Home that felt safer now that Henry Laurens was gone, but at the same time, it didn't feel quite right. It was missing something. 

A dramatic shift would send the family into a big adjustment. They would need to adjust themselves to fit the new situation they had. 

As John was carried up to his room, Nathan moved his own items to the guest room with help from John White, Francis Marion, and John's siblings. He was grateful that he was allowed to stay. 

John's room was the way he left it, laptop and college banners and paintings and all. Swimming trophies and art supplies neatened on his desk and curtains that turned his room a certain navy blue when the light hit just right. Little origami fish hanging from the ceiling on fishing wire and John's acceptance letter to SUNY hanging on the wall. He never did have the chance to respond and say that he wouldn't be going to school for a while. He never told them that he would miss his entire Junior year. He never said that he would be gone longer than summer. He never said a lot. He should have. 

One of the paramedics took John's hat and boots from his uniform and placed them both near the closet door, and they carefully helped John move onto his actual bed. They arranged the medical equipment around him, checked that he was comfortable, and when it was finally time for them to leave, they wished him well and had John sign an autograph for them. 

When it was just family and friends left in the house, it felt much better and safer and sweeter. 

"We missed you, Jack," Harry mumbled and sat beside John on the bed. John wrapped an arm around him as best he could and smiled. 

"I'm home now though, aren't I?" 

"Yeah." 

"What did I miss while I was gone?" 

The siblings and John White carefully began to explain all the happenings in Charleston since John had left for war. All the letters that lay untouched on the kitchen table and all the texts they had received from unknown numbers. All of everything that had happened. 

Martha and Martha had begun to date each other. Mary Eleanor had been drawing extensively with John's supplies and always made sure to put things back in order. Harry had been riding his bike more often and had finally assigned a name to the alligator in the pond. White had been assisting Marion in the case against Henry Laurens and managing to handle John's siblings and news stations and such. 

John was falling asleep in the middle of the story about White traveling all the way to DC to talk to the other senator of South Carolina about who would take Henry's place. Nobody seemed to stop John from sleeping. He was grateful. 

_______________

"Two one-way tickets to Atlanta, Georgia. Then a flight to North Charleston. Then John White will pick us up and take us to meet John, and once we're done visiting with John, our hotel room will be ready and we can go there. After about a week in the hotel, White will have found us a place to stay," Tench explained to Lewis, who was coloring very carefully inside the lines of a coloring book, as he updated some of the files. 

"Are planes scary?" Lewis asked and grabbed another colored pencil to add more detail to the T-Rex. Tench was impressed with how well it looked. 

"Not any scarier than what you've already seen." 

"So is it fun?" 

"Flying?" 

"Yeah," Lewis grabbed the red colored pencil. 

"I guess so. Some people don't like the heights though. Planes can get really high up." 

"Yeah. I'm excited to see John again." 

"He'll be impressed with how much your English has improved. I don't think he really got to talk with you much after he got hurt." Tench handed him the orange pencil that was out of reach. "He misses you sometimes. You're like a son to him." 

Lewis smiled at that. "Nah. I'm too dark to be his son." 

Tench gasp in mock offense. "Meriwether Danny Lewis! He could be your father if he wanted. The color of somebody's skin doesn't define them at all. There are people with mixed races, adoption, and even biological families that are all the same race sometimes don't look like each other. I mean, the parent or child could just tan easier. You should never think that you aren't connected to somebody in some way just because of the color of your skin or where you're from. If you've built a relationship with them, it doesn't matter." 

Lewis sat in silence for a minute and processed that. "You're right, Tilly." 

"I know I am. Ready to wrap up for the night, kiddo?" 

"Yeah." 

_____________

**CNN: Heroes Welcome to Mexican War Veterans**

War Heroes from the Mexican War that recently ended have already begun to arrive home. Facebook, Twitter, and other platforms are flooding with videos of families reuniting and happy welcome homes for soldiers of all kinds. News stations and newspapers report on their own version of the mass reintroduction of soldiers to society, each state with their own hero, but it's South Carolina rejoicing the most. 

South Carolina's own hero John Laurens returned to his home state with Nathan Hale and a number of doctors to assist him in getting home in one piece. The man looked injured and his face had quite a bit of scarring, which we've been informed by an anonymous source is from the battle before the end of the Mexican War. The man was flooded with reporters and cameras as he exited the Columbia Airport and left to go back to his hometown of Charleston, and the reunion of his family was cut short. He looked happy to be home though, and we've been informed from Major White, an old friend of Laurens, that they have requested privacy for the time being. When Laurens comes back, however, he's expected to be mostly healed and back on his feet. 

The mass migration of soldiers continues, as General George Washington is soon to return to his own home in Virginia and many other soldiers are leaving their posts to go home. General Washington was the man who led the war against Mexico in Southern California under orders from the president himself, and he was finally granted a chance to return home by Congress only days ago. General Daniel Sampson will take his place and oversee the Southern California Military Base in Washington's place. 

As this all winds down, the scandal of Henry Laurens is settling over the nation as well. The man has been placed behind bars now and won't be free for fifteen years at the very least. America can now rest assured that the country is slowly piecing itself back together again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a lovely day, my fantastic soldiers. <3


	25. Twenty-Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brush the dush off of the uniform, greet the new dawn, and sing a new song. It's a new day and you are clean of yesterday's mistakes.

The curtains were thrown open and the sun flashed into the room. Harry smiled as he looked out over the expansive lawn and saw the low branches of the trees hanging over the driveway, framing it nearly perfectly. He turned around and looked at his brother, who was taking careful steps into the living room with Marty at his side. 

"How do you feel, Jack?" Harry asked and went to help move one of his monitors over the threshold of the room. 

"Better. My chest still hurts, but I'm better," he said and attempted a smile. 

"Take your time, Jack. Nobody is rushing you to get better," White said from the kitchen as he poured the pancake mix into the waffle iron. John saw some chocolate chips hiding in the mix, no doubt the work of one of his siblings to request that.

He had been prescribed some temporary glasses, and he was still getting used to how the thin wire frames sat on his face and how he no longer had the way to use his peripheral vision. The frames he had chosen were almost copper-colored and the thinnest option the optometrist had brought with him. They were large and almost a circle, but not quite, because the top flattened out and made it almost an oblong shape. Patsy had said that the glasses flattered him and highlighted his best facial features, and he had wanted to object and say that since his face had been scarred, there were no good features anymore. He hadn't said anything, though, and instead, he had picked the frames and they had the glasses, along with a spare which was quite similar, cut and sent the day after. 

"Jack, you know what McHenry said," White sternly reminded as John sat down at the counter to watch his friend make breakfast. 

"Yeah, I know. Move slowly because there's no rush to get better and the sooner I try, the longer it'll take to heal," he recited and remembered the phone call to everyone nearly a week ago. McHenry had given him strict exercises to do every day at certain times, told him what he could and couldn't eat, what to do if something went wrong, how to clean his oxygen mask (which he needed at night to help him breathe until his brain remembered how to do it), and other helpful tips. It had been nice to be reminded of his family back in the military and he was excited for Tench and Lewis coming home in a few days. He missed Alexander, though. The distance was slowly killing him. 

"Exactly. Now sit down and tell me what you want for breakfast," White said confidently and pulled a waffle out of the waffle iron and prepped to make another one. 

"Can you put eggs in a waffler?" Nate asked from the kitchen table, where he was leaning back in his chair trying to watch the news program on TV in the other room. 

"What?" Both Johns looked at Nate like he was crazy. 

"What?" Nate looked back at them. "Can you not?" 

"No, no, that's not the problem. The problem is what you called it," White reasoned with him. 

"A waffler?" Nate asked and started cutting his own waffle again. 

"Yes!" 

"Nate is from Connecticut. Y'know how language changes around the country? Like..." John tried to think of a way to explain it to White. "So, Tench has a little bit of Jersey accent, but not as much because he's from around Philly, right? And Alex sometimes drops his h's because he's from the Caribbean and they have that kinda accent, like, around the British Virgin Islands. You and I have the southern twang because we're from Carolina, 'nd Meade has the little Irish bit in his voice too because he was raised around Irish-Americans. Nate and Ben are both from up north in the backwoods stuff and for them in Connecticut and Setauket or wherever Ben is from it's weird for New Yorkers and it's the equivalent for us as comparing the people from Columbia or Charleston to the people upstate in the Blue Ridge," John explained and tried not to gesture too much as he talked so he wouldn't mess up his machines. His glasses slipped down his face and he quickly corrected them. 

"See? You dixies dunno the way we talk in the north. I got a friend who has the thickest Jersey accent and he isn't even from Jersey, but he moved there and it rubbed off on him and y'know, accents rub off on people and whatever," Nate said. "Like in Rhode Island, they have other names for stuff, too, like how a water fountain is called a bubbler, and I was raised to call those things a waffler! Plus, it saves time when you talk," Nathan explained and finished his rant by shoving a syrup-covered piece of waffle in his mouth. 

"Yeah, well in the time that you two have been teaching me, I put an egg in the waffle iron and it actually turned out alright. Except now I can't exactly have the egg gravy--" 

"You mean the yolk?" 

"In my family, we call it egg gravy!" 

"Dude, what the fuck? You mean the yolk when it isn't cooked through?" 

"Yeah!" 

"You guys are crazy. Remind me why I'm staying here again?" Nate sipped his coffee and watched the pair go back and forth. 

"Because you don't have any money and I have spare rooms now that I technically got my inheritance which is the house and yeah. It worked out," John responded and poured a small bit of syrup over his waffles. 

"Ah, yes." 

________________

Tench dragged his suitcase towards the jeep that was ready to drive them to the airport. All the men were still in their uniforms since it was one of the only decent things they could wear (besides basketball shorts, boxers, and tank tops, which they usually slept in). He had spent all afternoon helping Lewis pack his own suitcase and gathering what he wanted to take in his luggage that wouldn't be shipped later. The things he wouldn't take now would be shipped to John because it was easier than taking everything at once. 

Fitz and Alex were waiting with the jeep to get everything set up for their ride to LAX to send the two boys (well, Tench was a man, but still...), and Lewis was excitedly hugging everyone else goodbye. 

"Thank you! I'll miss you! Te Quiero!" He shouted and then rushed toward the jeep and the trio that were loading things into it. Fitz opened the door for him and Lewis quickly climbed into the back and buckled into the seat. 

"Have fun, Mery!" Harrison called out from where he was standing and watching him run away from the group of them. 

Once Tench and the others had everything set up, they climbed into the jeep and started down the dirt road out of the base. The same road John's bus had driven him in through mere months ago. 

_________

Tench had printed the boarding passes and he and Lewis were ready for flight. Lewis was dressed in his own uniform which was the same tan color as the others. They both had their little suitcases, both reasonably sized to be carry-ons, and were saying their goodbyes to Alex and Fitz. 

"Be sure to have John White call us when you get home, okay? And tell us all about how it was to fly, okay? We wanna make sure you got the best possible care." 

"While in the business class seats that we could hardly afford," Alex reminded and hugged the small blond. "Have fun and take pictures and tell me how John is when you get there." 

"John... White?" Tench guessed. 

"John Laurens," Alexander corrected and released him from the hug. He was careful not to damage the polaroid camera dangling around Tench's neck. 

"Of course." 

"And you," Fitz said and dropped to his knees to look Lewis in the eyes. "Don't be scared. You've got Tench to protect you if anything goes wrong." 

Lewis smiled. "I'm not scared. I'm going to see John again!" 

"Yeah," Fitz nodded. "Can I get another hug?" 

"Yeah!" 

All four suddenly embraced in a tight hug in front of the entrance to the rest of the airport. Fitz and Alex weren't allowed past airport security unless they were flying, so of course, they stayed back. 

When they broke apart, they said more goodbyes and Tench lead Lewis to the dreaded area that was airport security. 

He was hoping that they wouldn't make Lewis get patted down and all that. He was just a kid! But of course, the ICE and TSA went through numerous metaphorical parking lots to avoid the traffic lights of the law, so who knows? 

"Excuse me, are you two soldiers?" The man standing at the line looked at the pair with a skeptical expression. 

"Yes, actually. I have his papers and my passport if you need proof," Tench said and adjusted his collar. He was nervous. 

The man held out his hand and Tench handed over the condensed version of Lewis' paperwork and his own passport to go with it. 

Lewis tugged on Tench's shirt. "¿Por qué estamos esperando?" He whispered. 

"La TSA se asegura de que usted y yo no le hagamos daño a nadie. La seguridad. Hacen esto con todos," he reassured and smiled as best he could at Lewis. He had added the last part to make him feel more comfortable. 

"Boarding passes?" The TSA agent asked and Tench pulled them from his pocket and handed them over with shaky hands. 

They waited for another few minutes before the agent looked them up and down and stamped the passes. He handed them back. "I'm letting you through because I know the war just got out and I know he's a kid and I've got a kid his age at home 'round his age too. Have a safe flight and thank you for your service." 

Tench smiled brightly and took their papers back. They breezed through the rest of the security without a problem. 

He lead Lewis toward the screens displaying the incoming, outgoing, and on time or parked planes and taught him what it all meant. Once they figured out where their terminal and gate were, they started their way there, using the subway underground to get around the terminals. Lewis had a fun time riding the train and moving sidewalks to their gate and he cheerily waved to the flight attendant tiredly manning the desk. She looked up and smiled back at him. 

"Having fun yet?" 

"Yeah!" 

________________

John was carefully overseeing that Martha and Nate put all his belongings that had recently been sent back from the camp in the right places around his room. His old laptop sat on a blanket on his lap. He hadn't opened it in a while. 

He brushed the dust off of the top and admired the stickers that he had placed on it. He needed to update them, of course, but he still thought they were lovely. 

Upon opening it, John typed in his password and found... His old blog. Halfway complete with a post about how overfunded the military was. 

He laughed at himself for a moment and deleted it all. 

For his next post, he typed in a few simple sentences. 

_______________

J.Laur.77 Posted! 

**Back Again**

Hello. Apologies for being away for so long. I was in the military because my dad sent me there. Idk if any of you guys have watched the news lately, but I've been p popular i guess. If you havent already guessed from my blog name, I'm John Laurens. I hope this was a reasonable explanation for why i was gone and why i will no longer be running this blog because all my old opinions have since been debunked by firsthand knowledge :) 

_______________

It was late, or early, rather, when Tench and Lewis landed at Charleston's airport. They didn't need to go through baggage claim to get their things, so they just breezed through to the exit and the doors of the somewhat large airport. Of course, not as large as Atlanta, but it was still a good size. 

There was a man standing by a red pickup that looked eerily familiar, and he was holding a sign that read "LEWIS N TILGHMAN". John White. 

The pair walked towards him and Tench smiled. 

"I'm Tench Tilghman," he introduced himself to White, even though they had met before but never truly talked. 

"Of course you are, Colonel. Major John White. And I assume this is Lieutenant Lewis?" White said and smiled at Lewis. They both shook hands. 

"You assume correctly." 

"I also know that you're ready to go home and see John, but considering the delay and how late you can in, I'm not sure he'll be awake." 

"That's alright. We can wait." 

White smiled and nodded. "Okay. Let's take you to the hotel then." 

The red pickup that had belonged to Laurens himself that was still dusty but smelled like the mild cologne John had brought to the military with him (which had been taken nearly day 1) pulled out of the airport and toward the city. 

____________________

Alexander Hamilton: PENDING 

John Fitzgerald: PASSED

Tench Tilghman: PASSED 

Robert H. Harrison: PASSED 

George Washington: PASSED 

Benjamin Tallmadge: PENDING 

Meriwether D. Lewis: PASSED 

Richard K. Meade: PENDING 

Nathan Hale: PASSED 

John Laurens: IMPERATIVE - MEDICAL EMERGENCY 

Joseph Reed: IMPERATIVE - MISUSE OF RANK/CRIME 

As Alexander looked over the printed sheet of names for discharges, he thought about John and how he wished his discharge approval would just get passed already. How hard was it? Congress didn't go through it personally! Nobody did! It was all based on some stupid computer algorithm and if Alex didn't get let through, he would still find a way home, he was certain. 

David Humphreys sat beside him, updating some of the files the way Alexander had shown him. Once they began to print on the old printer they had in the workroom, he got up to go get it. 

"So the updated ones..." He began unsurely. 

Alex looked up. 

"I put them back in the file?" 

"Is it another discharge file or is it just a regular update?" Alexander asked and looked down at the paper in front of him. 

"Uhm... It's a discharge," Humphreys answered. 

"It goes in the discharge cabinet then." 

"It says you and him were in a relationship?" 

Alex looked up. The light shone through the paper so that he could see the faded words through it: John Andre Laurens. He reluctantly nodded. 

Humphreys smiled. "I hope you get to go home soon once I get better at this. You and he inspired me to join because I can be myself here. I want you two to be together again." 

Alex watched in silence as he placed the piece of paper in John's file and move it to the L section in the discharge cabinet. "Thank you." 

Humphreys smiled at Alex now. "No. Thank you." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The war is finished,   
> But the stories are only beginning. 
> 
> Hello, lovelies! Thank you for your love and kudos and comments! I love them all to death, even if they aren't in English (That's what google translate is for)! 
> 
> I'm considering making a sequel to Vision once it's over, but instead focusing on just Lewis and Clark, and it would be short, but I'm just considering the idea rn. 
> 
> Have a lovely day and please remember that I love you and drink plenty of water!


	26. Twenty-Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rainbows wouldn't exist without a little rain. 
> 
> \----NOTE: Apologies for the short chapter but I had to get this out and I still have two more much longer chapters to go before the final Epilogue and the end and yes, I rushed this one, but it's important.

John was out of the house. He was sitting in the passenger seat of White's blue four-door, on their way to go pick up Ben and La Fayette from the airport. Nate had a doctor's appointment to make sure his blood was clear and he had no infection, so he wasn't able to come greet them. Andre had flown to Boston for a few days and then he would join them in Charleston. 

The rain beat down on the windshield and brought back memories of chasing White back to his truck in downpours after football games, laughing at each other and trying desperately to getaway. Winning games and getting a celebratory kiss. Waiting for the field lights to go out before leaving together, White driving John back home and apologizing to his dad for having him home so late 'but the roads were slick and I thought it was best to play it safe'. Henry Laurens had trusted White. 

"Are you thinking of it too?" He asked quietly. With the sound of the rain, it was a whisper. 

John could only respond, "Yes." 

White smiled. "We've been through a lot, haven't we?" 

John nodded. "Yeah. War 'nd stuff." 

"And lawsuits and colleges." 

"Exes and 'Oh God's." 

White laughed at that. "Still the same John after all these years, though." 

"Me or you?" 

He thought about it for a moment. "Us. We. Both." 

"Gotcha." 

"I don't regret anything." _Flashes of rushed kisses and hugs before someone would enter the room._

"I know you don't." _Stumbling over words, muttering how much they would always be there for each other, whispering sweet nothings..._

"Do you?" 

John paused and thought about it. _Make-outs in the back seat of the four-door truck._ He took a deep breath and felt his chest put extra effort into the motion, still trying to get used to the abuse of war. _Gasps at rushed touches._ He reached a decision. _Reminders of how close they were._

"I don't regret it." 

White looked over at him and smiled. "You know I would never make you go back into that life, right? We can stay friends, and that won't change anything." 

John nodded. "I would like to stay as friends." 

"You're happy with Alexander. You two are meant to be." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

There was a lingering feeling in the air that White was going to mention Francis, but John did first. "He's better for me than Kinloch." 

Yes. 

He is. 

_________________

Alex was sprinting across camp to get to the office in time. He could hardly breathe while he was smiling so brightly. He was leaping over the potholes along the road and trying not to stumble and fall, but that wouldn't bring him down. He would keep running to the office and he would find Washington and happily give him the report. 

He burst through the door and wordlessly put the paper down on his desk. Alex then collapsed onto the floor, laying on his back with a bright smile and a content expression. 

Washington picked up the paper and his own face brightened at the sight. 

"Congratulations, Colonel Hamilton," General Sampson said from the door. He went to help pick Alex up off the floor. Humphreys and Harrison were behind him. 

"Finally," Alex breathlessly said. 

Harrison looked at the paper. He grinned as well. 

"We're going home," he said and giddily grabbed Alex to spin him around. 

**DISCHARGE REQUEST GRANTED**

**DISCHARGE ORDERS:** Hamilton, R. Alexander: Leaves November 8, 2020, Los Angeles to Detroit, Detroit to Charlotte, Charlotte to Charleston via shuttle bus. 

**DISCHARGE ORDERS:** Harrison, H. Robert: Leaves November 8, 2020, Los Angeles to Detroit, Detroit to Charlotte, Charlotte to Charleston via shuttle bus. 

__________________

La Fayette had embraced John in a tight hug and they had both laughed at seeing each other again. Ben chuckled along with them as they loaded their things into the bed of the truck. La Fayette had insisted on turning the radio on as they made their way to the hotel. They sang along to songs from the 80s that Tench had gotten them all hooked on, and the rain picked up as they got to the same place where Tench and Lewis were staying. 

White pulled under the unloading zone which was thankfully covered, and they all unloaded their belongings. Lewis rushed out of the elevator almost immediately and ran towards the four in the lobby with Tench hot on his heels. 

Lewis rushed to John and White lifted him into his arms with a reminder to be gentle and careful, and Tench practically tackled La Fayette. 

They all laughed and got checked into the hotel. 

"John. Laur-ens." 

John stopped and turned to see the General smiling at him. 

"Merci." He held his hand out. "Call me Gilbert, now." 

They shook hands and John smiled at him. "Oui. Gilbert." 

Tench bid them all goodbye and had to separate John and Lewis again. A rainy but goodnight. 

_______________

Arrangements were made. They were moving to the financial capital of America. The place where nobody sleeps. The place that runs on coffee and neon lights. 

White and the others were already packing their bags. 

New York City. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm running on coffee right now.


	27. Twenty-Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ocean, vast and deep and shining, wake me up, bring me home, take my wounds from my skin and wash my blood away because I don't need it anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a Carolinian, this is all firsthand knowledge of Charleston, North Charleston, and the surrounding areas. I live quite close to it, I've been to Mepkin myself, and if you want to doubt me, go ahead, but if I was unsure about something, I did research on it first. I did my best to make this chapter longer, but in the middle of the first draft, my computer closed the tabs and I lost it, so this is my second attempt.

The ocean. Deep and vast and churning. Calm and bright. Cold. Warm. Shallow and teal. Looming and ominous and reassuring and navy. The Atlantic was unpredictable, but in all honesty, wasn't all of it? The water around the battery was rougher than he had expected, but it wasn't unusual for the harbor waves to crash against the concrete and rocks. It wasn't a storm, and the water wasn't overly high, but the wind blew across the harbor and the waves pushed a spray into the air every time a new wave crashed into the battery. The chill grew with the wind. 

Lewis rushed forward to see the water and the salty air with it, and he got out of John's grasp before he could grab him and remind him not to run away. 

"Mery!" 

Lewis was already climbing the concrete barrier to see the ocean. "Whoa!" He gasped. John had forgotten that he had never truly seen the ocean before. "Look at all the water! Look how dark it is!" He oohed. 

John stumbled forward to grab him and keep him from falling over the edge and into the water. There would be no doubt that it was chilly, not to mention rough and polluted. Despite how it may have looked, the murky waters around the battery were shallow and the current pushed strong swells up into it and into the rocks. It was very dangerous, and very misleading. John had been lucky enough to jump in during a calm day, but he had a scar from the bottom of the harbor to prove that it wasn't worth diving for. 

He looped his arm around Lewis' waist and pulled him up closer and higher himself. Better Lewis and he both go in than having Lewis fend for himself. That had been his thinking the whole time he'd known him. Lewis didn't object to this new and better view. 

"Careful, buddy. The water may look cool, but it's really dangerous. You need to be careful, okay? I don't want you getting hurt," he said with a concerned tone. 

Meriwether Lewis, of course, responded politely with a 'yessir' and a nod. John had taught him good manners, after all, but he had also made sure to remind Lewis it was okay to call John whatever he wanted and not exclusively 'sir' like his own father made him do. 

As they stood and looked out at the ocean, John had a moment to appreciate Charleston. Across the harbor, he could see Patriot's Point and Fort Sumter, both closed because it was Sunday. Because it was Sunday and the heart of November, nobody in their right mind was out today. Well. That didn't count the shipping industry and their huge cargo ships and oil carriers, which came and went on days like these from the port on James Island, which was hardly visible to John's right. The Cooper River side of the peninsula on his left and the Ashley to his right, and he looked out eastward at the Atlantic. 

As he looked across the sky, which was mostly clear except for some little puffy clouds that drifted along, he saw storm clouds looming ominously over the horizon. Threateningly. Dangerously. Daring someone to challenge the open sea. 

He almost felt worried that they should rethink their day on the boat that John and White had rented. 

"Dad?"

John responded before he realized what Lewis had said. "Yes?" 

Lewis pointed out to Fort Sumter. "I wanna go to _that_ island." 

John smiled and shook his head. "Maybe someday, buddy, but today we're just gonna go out on the boat. We might get to see dolphins." 

"Dolphins?" 

"Yep. They look like fish, but a lot bigger and a lot nicer and smarter. Don't get your hopes up, though, okay?" 

"Okay." 

"Y'know what else?" John asked. 

"What?" 

"You're amazing." 

Lewis giggled as John started to tickle his sides. 

This is the life he had always wanted. Happy and sure of himself and confident. He had thrown himself into the fray of battle and come out with wounds and stories, but it was all worth it for this. He may not look the greatest now and his face may look odd, but he knew deep down that hell, if this smile and laughter from Lewis and the promise that Alexander would return home soon was what he had been fighting for all along, he would never reverse a single part of it. 

"C'mon, buddy. Let's go see if White's gotten the boat here yet," John said and started to put Lewis down and walk to the docks. 

Lewis clutched his hand as best he could with the leather outside of his gloves. The inside was lined with some kind of fabric he didn't remember the name of to keep his hands warm, and he knew Lewis wasn't used to this temperature and the shift of warm to cold, so dropping a ridiculous amount of money on a pair of gloves was all worth it, even if the leather was slippery when they tried to hold hands so John could lead him around. 

Lewis whined and held his arms open to be picked up again after a while. 

Of course, John picked him up. 

"Y'know what, Mery?" 

"Mhm?" 

"You're gonna grow up and be a hero someday. You'll grow up and change somebody's life and pay forward all the good stuff that you're getting now and everything that you've deserved for a long time now. You'll grow up and be the greatest fighter ever, even if you don't really fight. Because you know you're still my little fighter," John poured out his feelings. His heel and ankle ached as he spoke, a reminder of how much he'd risk saving Lewis' life. He would still not change a thing. "You're a vision, and you're gonna grow up to be the best you can be." 

Lewis nodded along and when he got bored when John was finished, he took the wire-frame glasses from his face and John stopped to avoid tripping. 

"May I have those back please?" 

Lewis gave them back with a giggle. 

________________

As Tench and White were walking the little dirt path to the dock, Tench stopped to look at the alligator swimming around in the pond, shifting up the algae as he moved. He seemed to be coming closer, but Tench preferred not to stick around to find out if he was. He followed White to the boat they had rented as he was beginning to untie it from the dock. 

Once White was behind the wheel and leading them into the main body of the Cooper River, Tench, now seated, turned to ask about the gator. 

"Does John know about that alligator in his pond?" He asked and looked back to see the creature now sliding its large body back into the water. He had been chasing them after all and had gotten out of the water, even, to get to them. 

"Hm? Oh, yeah." White focused on mostly driving before he continued to speak. "Jack actually feeds Cooper a lot. Heck, the gator is practically tamed now. I'm surprised Jack isn't inviting it into his home for the winter." 

Tench hummed and thought it must've been usual for John then. He was an animal lover, after all. 

As they sped through the murky waters, Tench let himself enjoy the wind in his hair for once. He could relax. He was home. He was not sick, he was not in danger, he was not in war, he was not a secretary, he was home. He was safe. He breathed in the salty air and reassurance of home, and he remembered the expected arrival of the rest of their gang. Meade and Fitz were home now. Everyone was home. Lee was returning to his place in upstate New York, Andre was coming to get La Fayette and take him to his own place in Philadelphia where he had already scored a job working with a newspaper company, Knox was staying in Charlotte and trying to book a flight to Philadelphia, Washington was in the air on his way to his family in Alexandria in Virginia, and Harrison and Hamilton were on their own drive from Charlotte to Charleston. Nobody had told John that Alexander's arrival was set so soon yet. It was a surprise. 

The wind held promise. 

Tench welcomed it. 

_____________

As Alexander adjusted the way his legs were positioned in his seat in the back of the large van, he shifted the notepad in his hands as well. He had bought it at the airport alongside a lovely fountain pen he intended to give to Tench once he was done with it. The bags in the space behind him shifted for the millionth time on this ride and Alexander couldn't bring himself to care at this point. They were pulling into another neighborhood to drop somebody off and a new idea came to him as he saw the ocean. 

_Take my heart,_   
_Take my blood,_   
_You can scorch my home,_   
_You can send me floods,_   
_But You cannot take my Love_

The words flowed well in his handwriting, and he remembered the wildfires years back in California when he had first begun to work for Washington. Soldiers had died trying to save each other and their homes and belongings, but the most damage had been to their spirit. He would never go back. 

He remembered the home he and his family had stayed in in the Caribbean which had been washed out during a particularly bad storm and filled with salty floodwaters. The island had been leveled the next year by a hurricane of much higher magnitude than just a flood. He still held bitter memories from those days, but he felt it was better to forget and move on now that he was gone from that. He was here now. Here. Home. 

_All birds of a feather,_   
_Dance and sing,_   
_Despite all the weather,_   
_Take me under your wing,_   
_Love me forever_

He imagined the embrace that John would give him when he was home. That is, hoping he was better. 

Alexander had been told by White and John's siblings that John was doing really well, if not a little blind now, but that was easily fixable. He was still excited. If he was scarred, better for Alex, because he could kiss all the scars on his face and body and praise his bravery and how he had earned every one. Scars could not wash from skin, but Alexander would find a way to make John feel like he was young and pure again, clean of all the sin of war and all the fear of another. Untainted from the murder of men and women that had taken place on the border. 

His Jack had no reason to be upset ever again. He was coming home. He was going to be there for him whenever he was upset. He was going to be okay. 

It was going to be okay. 

_Heal my scars_

His words flowed brighter. 

_Take my hand_

He kept going. 

_Freckles like stars_

He chuckled at the idea of John calling them that. 

_Travel skin like land_

The idea of touching and feeling him again was making Alex's chest tighten and flutter with anxiety and happiness. 

_You are too far_

Very true. 

_I'd forgotten how to stand_   
_I'm here, we are_   
_When you were gone_   
_I forgot you loved me so_   
_So Touch me_   
_I've been gone_   
_I'm here now_   
_I'm home_   
_Heal my scars_   
_Take My Hand_   
_I love you_   
_I have missed you_

He was proud of the flourishing poem on the paper now. Alexander smiled and began another. The notebook was already half full of such short stories and poems. 

_The ocean_   
_Vast and deep and shining_   
_Wake me up_   
_Bring me home_   
_Take my wounds from my skin and_   
_Wash my blood away because_   
_I don't need it anymore_

He felt as though the blood was still staining his skin, but he knew it was just the mental blackness the war had caused. John would cleanse the feeling from him once he had returned home. He would be the ocean and welcome him. The same ocean that was churning outside the van window at the moment as they ventured southwards from Myrtle Beach and on toward Charleston. 

_Home_

The word was suddenly written with great emotion, taking up a whole sheet of paper. The H curved well into the O, and Alexander was calmed by the word. 

Home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated. I'm attempting to wrap this up well, but I'm in the middle of a lot right now and I apologize for poor updating times. 
> 
> Have a lovely day <3


	28. Twenty-Eight: Closure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jump into my arms and let me hold you again. It's only been weeks but that's been too long.

The van was crossing over the bridge that spanned the Cooper River, on its way to Mount Pleasant and Mepkin Estate. The harbor sparkled with drops of sunlight and Alex could see motorboats and sailboats alike drifting around in the cold water. He swore he saw dolphins hiding in the murky colors, but he wasn't sure. He just focused on trying not to fidget about getting home. 

____________

"Well, wasn't that fun?" John asked and straightened his glasses once Lewis was safe on the dock. The boat rocked as White and Tench both stepped off. 

"Yeah! I wanna go again!" He squealed and tried to climb back into the boat. 

"No, buddy," John grabbed him and held him up on his hip before Lewis could fall into the water or boat. "Tench says there's a surprise waiting for you inside. You don't wanna miss a surprise, right?" He hummed and started to walk down the ramp and towards the house. 

It looked too big and too bright from the river, and John knew he would be happy to move out of it. He didn't want such a grand place to flaunt the money that he hadn't earned. He wanted a New York apartment that was small but perfect for him and Alexander and Lewis. He wanted a place where he could always be within walking distance of people and entertainment. A place where the lights never stopped and the city didn't sleep. He wanted a home where he could be an insomniac and not be afraid. Where he could let his emotions roam all night and never sleep, and he could find the good in the bad. Isolation in the backwoods of Carolina was too quiet. New York was a promise of better things. 

Lewis had responded while John was thinking and stepping up the path and through the back door, where White and Tench followed him. Fitz and Ben and Nate were all standing in the living room, hovering around the door. 

John placed Lewis down and he rushed forward to see what was happening. 

"What's going on?" He turned to ask White as Tench rushed forward in a fit of giggles to send both him and Fitz into a tumble onto the carpeted floor. 

White only smiled and covered his eyes, slipping them under John's glasses, and slowly nudged John forward into the room. 

Everyone was quiet, even Lewis. 

When White pulled his hands away, a soldier dressed in medallions and tan smiled back at him. His red curls were short on his head and his blue eyes shone brightly at the sight of John. His freckles and small scars were a sight for sore eyes, and his smile sat comfortably on his face. 

Without either realizing it, they rushed forward and John picked him up, both laughing and bending to the will of the other. No objections. No worry. No fear. This was not war. No longer. 

John could hardly feel his own face but he knew he was crying when he held Alexander in his arms again. He felt his warm body and his happy presence, constant and no longer a fleeting feeling against his skin or tugging at his heart. His smile was back, and the world burst into color, and he was certain it was not from his copper-rimmed glasses. 

Alexander cupped his cheeks and they kissed. The soldiers kissed. 

It was flawless. 

Hamilton holding him like this, smiling, laughing against his lips, both men crying after what felt like an eternity away from each other but was less than maybe three months. 

Home. 

Home. 

Home. 

They broke apart and Alexander smiled. He smiled at John and he laughed to himself. 

"Look at you. War scarred and already becoming an old man with those dopey glasses," Alex snickered and pointed to John's glasses as if he didn't already know. 

"Would you have me any differently?" He asked. 

"Of course not." 

They kissed again and both men were certain that now they were safe. Warm in the embrace of each other. 

"What a vision," Alexander whispered. 

"Indeed. What a vision, you are, dear boy." 

# vision

noun

vi·sion | \ ˈvi-zhən \

## Definition of _vision_

3 **:** the act or power of imagination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and Sweet. 
> 
> In two chapters, an epilogue and an explanation, I shall bid Vision adieu and move on to the rest of the series of Five Senses (Vision being one of five, of course). One at a time, though. 
> 
> Apologies for such a short chapter. I'm very tired.


	29. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every beginning has an end, but nothing ever truly ends the way one might expect.

The New York streets were busy with tourists and locals alike, and Meriwether Lewis carefully pushed his way through them all. He was officially on winter break now, and he planned to take full advantage of his holiday time. In the snowy avenues of New York, he shoved through the foot traffic and toward the apartment building he shared with the rest of his family. His bookbag bumped against someone and they only shot him a look and nothing else. There was a look that Mery shot back as a 'sorry'. It was over by then. The two-second arrangement was done. 

Once Mery had made it to the lobby of their building, he shoved down his thick scarf and took a deep breath of the warm air. His phone dinged and he pulled it from his pocket to check his notifications as he got onto the elevator. 

_NY TIMES: Governor Laurens Pushing for Jefferson Impeachment_

Mery smiled and pressed the banner's link to take him to the article. 

**BREAKING:** Governor Laurens Pushing for Jefferson Impeachment 

_Governor John Laurens of New York recently came out during a press conference saying he "will push as hard as he can until President Jefferson gives in and resigns or gets forced from office". This comes after Jefferson insulted Laurens' campaign to run for office again, calling it "a failure" and "already won before it began". In his words to the Washington Post, the President said, "Laurens is a soldier and not a politician. He has no idea what he's doing, and he only won because nobody wanted to compete against him. I'm almost certain he threatened anyone who was going to run. He's a soldier, as I said, so he has connections and getting his point across"._  
_On the Governor's Twitter, he posted a picture of himself shaking the hand of Governor John White of South Carolina with the caption "Together Strong, Together Upholding Justice"._

_[IMAGE]_

_Governor Laurens has made it his duty throughout his time serving in politics to remove unjust men from their offices and "set America straight in its ways". He pushed for Trump's impeachment, leading rallies and protests on Trump Tower in New York only months after recovering from a near-fatal battle in the Mexican-American War and forcing him to resignation, only to have Vice-President Pence take his spot and resign only days later, leaving Speaker of the House Thomas Jefferson to take up the presidency. When Laurens ran for his own office after moving to New York with his then-boyfriend Alexander Hamilton, he made it his main goal to thrown Jefferson from office as well, and after years of work and having to raise a son and keep up with constant doctor's visits to keep him in good health, he has still never given up, and even in the thick of the debate raging with impeachment, he is still fighting stronger and leading other state leaders forward in the fight._  
_It appears that John Laurens is not giving up anytime soon._  
"A soldier's duty is to serve their country, and once you are a soldier, you never stop being one." --New York Representative and Lawyer Alexander Hamilton 

Mery finished the article as the elevator rattled to the floor. He preferred the slow and rickety box than taking the stairs, and as he exited onto the thirteenth floor, he heard laughter bubbling up from down the hall. He smiled and rushed towards the apartment he shared with his two parents and pulled his keys out of his pocket. The door was unlocked anyway, so there was no point, and he let himself in. 

As he expected, there were two new faces standing in the room with Alexander. They turned to see Mery putting his keys in the little dish by the door and they both lit up with grins. 

"Lewis! God, I haven't seen you in weeks!" Tench Tilghman cheerily greeted him and the pair embraced each other in a tight hug, even if it was awkward because of the bookbag that he had on his back. 

"Hey, Uncle Tilly," Mery greeted and held onto the man longer than he probably should've. 

"I've missed you, kid. You really should come visit us more often. How far of a walk is it, really?" Tench chuckled and pressed a gentle kiss on Mery's head. 

"Yeah. 'm sorry I haven't visited. Finals suck." 

"I hear that," the blond man hummed and they finally let go. 

"Where's my hug? Tilly gets one a minute long and I don't get anything?" Fitz blew out an exasperated breath from where he stood and Mery quickly stumbled to him for a hug, as well. 

They all stood in comfortable silence for a moment until Fitz and Meriwether Lewis let go. 

Alexander smiled at them from where he stood, arms wrapped around his middle in a self-hug (but Mery knew it was because he was having stress sickness again and that helped his stomach feel better), and he watched. Mery stepped up to him next and they didn't hug. Alex was too hurt to hug. Too sick, for that matter. McHenry would need to look at him whenever he visited. 

"Go put your stuff down in your room, Mery. We'll go and get Pythias and Damon soon, okay?" Alexander spoke quietly and sent Mery to his room. 

"They still call themselves that?" Fitz asked. 

"As far as I know. You know they're big nerds," Alex responded. 

As he walked away, he heard the conversation pick up in the other room. 

"So you think he won't be able to make it for the holiday reunion?" 

"He's too busy, Tench. You know how much progress he's been making lately. I'm not sure he can take a break right now. As much as I love him, I think this year we're gonna be more split up. I haven't heard anything from Rich and Lee, and George might be staying with Will in Virginia to look after the farm." 

"So we're gonna be missing most of the group?" 

"Yeah. Probably so." 

Mery stopped out of sight to listen in. 

"What about Gilbert and Andy?" 

"Last I heard, they both were visiting Switzerland for their anniversary, but that was two weeks ago. I haven't heard anything from or about them in weeks." 

"So John's working, Rich and Lee are still upstate, George is staying at Mount Vernon with Will to watch over things, Andy and Gil are abroad, and Mac is stuck in Philly because his flight got canceled for the snow?" 

There was an uncomfortable silence and Mery pushed his way into his room to escape it. Unfortunately, it followed him in. He'd heard too much, and now he knew that this might be his first holiday in seven years where everyone wasn't there. He pulled his phone out to check his messages again. 

**Billy:** hey u wanna meet me @ somewhere??   
**Billy:** i kno u got family stuffs tho   
**Billy:** but idk if they are already there or not   
**Billy:** just thout id ask 

**Dad:** Hey buddy. I won't be home until late tonight. Alex isn't answering his phone. Could you tell him for me?   
**Dad:** Make sure he's alright for me, please? 

**CLee:** hey sport Kidder and I just booked a flight from Albany to JFK so we'll be in town soon, k? we miss you! 

Mery read his dad's texts and saw the typing box appear again, and then it disappeared. It went on like that for a while. He didn't seem to find the words he needed and eventually settled. 

**Dad:** I love you. I hope you had a good day at school. 

The statement made Mery get a hot feeling in his chest. He couldn't even apologize for not making it to their holiday reunion properly! Of course, John was busy, but he could at least be there for Tench's birthday on the twenty-fifth! 

Out of spite, Mery responded an immediate message to Billy as he grabbed his wallet and scarf again. 

**Meriwether:** I'll meet you @ Blue Stockings   
**Meriwether:** be there soon 

He started out of the apartment almost immediately. 

Alexander, Tench, and Fitz had moved their conversation to the kitchen, which was unsurprising since it was a quarter past noon. Mery got out without conflict, then, and pulled his beanie over his ears as he headed for the lobby and cold streets again. 

**Billy:** omw

Mery didn't respond this time, but he headed for the bookstore where he and William had agreed to meet. They'd known each other since seventh grade now, but with Billy's family working with travel, he always came and went. Thank God, they had finally decided to let him stay with his uncle in New York while they traveled after he nearly begged them to let him stay. No more switching schools, no more making new friends, and no more leaving Mery behind. Meriwether Lewis had become close with William Clark, and they were finally not going to be torn apart again. 

Not for another two years, when they both graduated high school. 

Mery stopped in front of the shop and looked around for Billy once he got there. He wasn't outside, so maybe inside? 

He stepped in and immediately spied him browsing the science fiction section. Their favorite books hid in those shelves. He walked to Billy's side and shoved his face into his shoulder. He knew Billy was going to hug him and ask what was wrong, but this little action was enough to throw him off and all his did was wrap an arm around his shoulders. Billy pulled him close and just let Mery warm up like that. 

After a moment, Billy still hadn't let go. "You okay, Mery?" He quietly asked. 

"No." 

Billy nodded. He knew that Meriwether Lewis was an honest man and he wouldn't lie to his best friend. "Wanna go get cocoa or coffee? Or we could go to my place?" 

"I jus' wanna be with you," Mery sighed and Billy nodded again. 

"My place then. You'll be more comfortable there." 

_______________

John was going for forty hours at this point. How long had it been since his last break? He wasn't sure by now. His vision was swimming, but he kept on typing. He had to finish this email and send it to White. 

Papers were scattered around the room. The wobbly oak desk that John worked on was cluttered with drafts of ideas and notes and reminders. His office phone was surely buried somewhere in the mess. Probably dead. He needed to clean.

The drawers of the desk weren't much better. They were filled with files of papers of debates and more notes and he had tried to organize them as they had years ago when John was still a soldier. He'd quickly gotten too busy for that, though, and started shoving the information into the drawers without much care. 

There was a sudden buzzing from one of the papers, and after finishing a sentence and searching for where it was coming from, he found his phone in the mess. His personal phone. 

There was a call from Alexander causing the vibrating of the phone. 

He answered. 

"Hello?" 

"John! Where are you? I've tried calling your office phone five times and texting you and you didn't respond! Where have you been? Is your chest hurting you again?" Alexander rapidly asked. 

"Alex. 'm fine. I'm at work, finishing an email," John sighed as he plopped himself back into his rickety swivel chair. 

"John, we need to talk." 

He froze. Those were the worst possible words to hear from Alexander. His voice shook as he responded, "Yeah?" 

"You need to take a break, John. I haven't seen you in three days, and you haven't even called Tench and John to see if they got here safely. You need to check up on people. I can't do that for you." 

He was quiet and stared at the blurry fuzz of the computer screen. 

"John. Meriwether is gone." 

He jolted and knocked his knee against the desk, sending more papers onto the floor. "Gone!?" 

"He got home after school and put his things in his room and I didn't see him leave, but I was talking with Tench about the plans for this year and how everyone might not be here, and he might've overheard and you know how he is about family, so--" 

"Alex," John's voice cracked and he rubbed his eyes. 

"John, I don't know where he would be. I sent Tench to Blue Stockings and he wasn't there, and then I went to Hercules' and he wasn't there, and he isn't answering his phone, John, he's gone!" 

Hearing him like this broke his heart, but the cursor blinked, indicating the email wasn't finished. 

"I can't go looking for him." 

"W-what?" 

"I'm busy, Alex, I can't leave right now. I have work and so much-- so many, papers. You know how politics is." 

"John." 

His voice was steely and John prepared for the worst. 

"Come home." 

He didn't respond. 

"If you can't come home to look for your own missing son, then don't come home at all. Whatever happened to the brave soldier willing to risk his life for people? The one who ran out in front of chaos and grabbed a nine-year-old kid to save him from his own country? Where did you go?" 

John couldn't speak. 

"If you can't put your son and your husband above work, maybe you should focus only on work. I can't believe you! You promised me you would be here to celebrate with everyone else, but now it's not the reunion again, it's just me and a few of the guys celebrating Tench's birthday, and that's all! Without Mery, we can't be happy. John, he's gone and he's not answering and maybe this is why he left. He heard me talking about how you were busy and wouldn't be with us and now he's gone! You sent him away! You drove your son away, John because you work too much! You're no better than your father by now, a politician who doesn't have time to focus on his family as he should. Don't bother coming home without Mery." 

He hung up, and John stumbled to his feet, tears beginning to pour from his eyes and he tried to dial Alexander again. He didn't answer and after John's third attempt, his phone died. 

He was stuck looking at his reflection in his phone. He looked like a mess. Bags under his eyes, stubble, and of course all his scars. The tears didn't make him look any better, and he frowned at himself. 

The phone was sailing across the room a moment later. 

John was out of the room before he could see what had happened to it. 

Out of the office, down the hall, to the stairs. 

Stairs to the lobby. 

Lobby to the street. 

He knew where Mery might be. 

John stumbled along the sidewalks and when he saw the building he was thinking of coming into view, he sprinted across the street. A cab screeched to a halt before hitting him and blared their horn. 

He didn't stop to say anything. 

John Laurens had no regard for people or traffic at the moment. He only had to get to the building. He had to find his son. 

As he sprinted past some news center he didn't remember at the moment, he gained the attention of a few people standing outside. Likely tourists. 

John didn't care to stop. 

________________

Billy combed his fingers through Mery's gray hair and watched Mery try to replace the batteries of his hearing aids without his glasses on. 

"Have you ever considered getting contacts?" Billy asked and Mery smiled. He made a little gesture that said 'lower your voice' and Billy did exactly that. He asked again. 

Mery set the batteries and hearing aid down to sign a few words to Billy. "I've thought about it, but I like these. Contacts sound like a hassle." 

Billy hummed his agreement and gave a quiet 'thank you' to Mery as he finished replacing the batteries. 

"You're really beautiful," Billy said, and not for the first time since they'd known each other. 

"Thank you. You're really handsome," Mery smiled back at him. 

Billy blushed but didn't stop his motions with Mery's hair. 

"When I invited you to coffee, I kinda had other plans, but this is nice, too," Billy admitted and Mery paused. 

"You wanted to go on a date with me or something?" 

"Well, yes? I mean, I would never make you, but I wanted to go on a date and I didn't know how to say it but you're so pretty that I thought um... Now was a good time, right? I shouldn't take advantage of your sadness though, I know, but..." Billy couldn't stop talking and offering excuses for his statement. 

Mery just smiled and shook his head. "I'd love to go on a date with you. Now if you don't kiss me, I might take back what I said." 

William "Billy" Clark kissing Meriwether Lewis made the latter understand what his parents were always gushing about and why they were so obsessed with each other. They had always gone all out when it came to birthdays and Valentine's Day, but Mery had never really gotten why until he kissed Billy. 

It was brief, but it made both of them happy. 

"Tell me when you can get a time and place and I'll be there." 

Billy flushed with pink. "Absolutely." 

There was a buzz near the door that they both knew was someone trying to get into the building to visit them. Billy carefully moved Mery's head and went to go get it. 

He pressed the button to speak. "Who is it?" 

There was a response immediately. "It's the Governor. I need to speak to my boy." 

Billy paused to look back at Mery, who was sitting upright on the couch in shock now. They didn't know what to do. 

"William, please let me in. If I can't get in, I..." He cut himself off, almost like he was sobbing at the other end. "Please let me in, Will. I need to see my boys." 

Mery felt guilt fill his stomach and gave Billy a small nod. "Let him up." 

"Come on in." 

Billy buzzed him in. 

It took a minute, but John was at the door and he was a mess. Tears and hair and everything about him were out of place. He walked into the apartment almost shyly and looked at Mery. He couldn't bring himself to get any closer than he was now. 

"Dad?" 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't take a break for me or you or for Alexander and I focused too much on work and I know I shouldn't have. I let it get to me and I--" He took a shaky breath. "I don't deserve to be here and get your forgiveness for not being here for you and here to love you. I'm here and I can't remember the last time we all went out as a family and had a night with just the three of us and I want that again. I want to be with my family, my husband, and my son, and my siblings, but I want to be with you and here for you and to help you more than anything. God, Mery, I wasted my time away from you. I don't even remember... When was the last time we went upstate and visited Lee and Dick and we went stargazing? I'm so busy that I didn't even realize how fast you were growing up. I mean, look at you. I know you aren't really my son, but I... I know you kind of are my son. You're my boy and I haven't been here for you. I'm sorry. Please forgive me?" 

Meriwether stared in shock at his adoptive dad and his broken expression. Something had finally cracked inside of his father that he had begun to cry like this. 

Meriwether Daniel Lewis had never seen his father cry. Sure, he had seen Alexander cry at the occasional sad movie or burst of frustration, but he had never seen his father John Laurens cry. Not when his father had been sent to jail and John had visited him to talk to his dad, even though his feelings toward him were still sour, and not even when his brother Harry had toasted to James Laurens on his birthday which happened to fall on their reunion date. No, he had never seen him cry. 

"I forgive you." He knew he did. 

Mery hugged his dad before they could react, and they both fell to their knees in a tight embrace. John remembered just seven years ago when he saved this same boy, clutching him a similar way, off the battlefield and into a hospital. He remembered moving him to New York and taking him around to see all the sights and learn to become a local. To lose his southern hospitality and gain the steeliness of a New Yorker. To teach Meriwether as he grew up and outgrew his black hairs into gray. Even John's hadn't changed yet, but his son was different. He was unique. He was amazing. 

John cried because he had missed so much. 

"Dad?" Mery spoke up. "What made you come find me?" 

John took a shaky breath in. "My own father taught me a good lesson and I finally understood it." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah. He taught me because I know that I can't follow his footsteps. I have to do what he didn't." 

"Dad?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I love you." 

A pause made Mery sure that his words had had a strong effect. More tears. "I love you too." 

______________

"I cannot believe we're on our way to see you guys and now you've sent Jack away," George mumbled over the phone. It sounded fuzzy through the car. 

"I'm just so tired of him and focusing so much on work and I finally had enough. If he can't put us first, he doesn't deserve us!" Alex objected. 

Hercules Mulligan, Alex's 'adoptive mother', spoke up, "You know, you could be overreacting, kid. I know how you get after a long time of being ignored and touch-starved." George hummed in agreement. This three-way call wasn't going the way Alex expected. 

"Herc, please. I wanted help, not... this," he huffed and paced around the apartment. 

"Alexander, stressing too much will only make you sick again. Please relax. I'll get to New York soon and we'll help you then. Just let Tench make you something to eat and watch TV." 

"Tench and John went back to the hotel." 

"You sent away your only physical support in your anger didn't you?" 

"Perhaps." 

"Goddammit, Alex." 

The door suddenly opened up and Alex hung up at the sight he saw. Meriwether Lewis and John Laurens standing there in the door. John had a sheepish smile on his face, a black and white suit, and a bouquet of flowers in his arms. 

"You're home." 

Mery smiled and nodded. "Sorry I left without telling you. I went to Billy's. I didn't mean to worry you." 

Alex smiled at his confession and then looked to John, who hadn't moved since he had taken that spot. 

John had shaved and showered and gotten dressed in one of his spare suits from work. He still had scars and bags under his eyes, but to Alex, he looked like an angel. Almost like the first day they met, some seven years ago, when John was exhausted from jetlag and Alex was irritable from a prank his military had pulled on him. John's eyes held fear in them. Doubt. 

"John?" 

"I'm sorry. I uhm... I forgot what I was going to say. I had a whole thing I was going to say, but I forgot. I was going to say something like I was sorry for focusing on work and not you. I'm sorry for forgetting about home and us. I want a second chance. I want to be here from now on, and I'll find a balance. If you give me a chance--" 

Alexander started to giggle. 

"W-what? Did I say something wrong?" 

Alex shook his head. "No, John. I just don't know why you're apologizing. You got me flowers and I get to see you in a suit again just for me, not for a crowd. This is enough, and you're forgiven." 

They shared a kiss. 

"I kissed Billy today." 

Both men jolted back from their kiss to face Mery again with shocked but excited expressions. 

______________

John Laurens sat down in the cold metal seat and looked through the glass at his father. Gray hairs and a neat haircut and a slight smile at the sight of his oldest son. Wrinkles. Tired eyes. Nothing John hadn't seen before. 

He took the phone off the wall and cracked a smile. "Hey, dad." 

"Hello, John. Merry Christmas." 

John smiled a bit more. "Happy holidays. I know I'm early, but I got you a gift. I'm not sure if the jail is gonna give it to you, but I hope they do. I got pictures when I was in the war and it really helped, so I got you a picture of all of us so it'll be easier for you." 

"You didn't have to, John." 

"I did. You're family, and I don't wanna forget you. You may be in jail and you may have done some bad things, but you're still my father and I believe you can change. You can be better. You can be a good dad and a good granddad." 

"What've you been up to, John?" Henry changed the subject. 

"My son got a boyfriend," he chuckled and Henry kept a smile on his face. He was beginning to accept this stuff too. "And we went to Pride way back in June. There's a big parade in New York for it, and we all went and gathered up all the LGBT soldiers from camp and they gave us a place in the parade. We all marched, but our uniforms were colored into our sexuality. Rob was leading us and George was following us up, too. They're both straight, but support is still a good thing. Being accepted is good." 

"And what about Patsy and Marty?" 

"Actually, I was about to ask you about that. Martha Manning would like your blessing to marry your own Martha." 

Henry was shocked. "But of course she can have it! Patsy visited me just last month and she spent the whole time gushing about Miss Manning! I won't keep them apart." 

John smiled and nodded. "I'll tell her that." 

"John?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I know I haven't told you this, but I'm proud of you." 

John felt warmth fill his chest. "Thanks dad." 

A VISION can be someone or something you deem beautiful. 

A VISION can be the things you see in everyday life; the act of seeing. 

A VISION can be the things you see happening in the future. 

A VISION can be anything. The future is yours. Conquer it. Find your VISION. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VISION is complete.
> 
> Thank you all for your support, especially my lovely fellow general. This wouldn't be possible without her. A special thank you for her :) 
> 
> An explanation for all the little symbols is coming for chapter 30! Thank you for sticking around long enough to see this come into its end. I'm so honored to have you all here at the end. It's been such a trip for me. 
> 
> Have a fantastic day, lovelies.   
> Thank you again. 
> 
> Signing off for one of the last time, my name is Jack, and I implore you, my soldiers, to find your VISION.


	30. Vision: Explained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I explain several of the meanings in Vision.

Hello! I'm Jack, the author of this soon-to-be series titled _The Five Senses of Soldiers_. _Vision_ is only one part and I'm hoping to have the rest out as soon as I can. 

Meanwhile, I would like to explain _Vision_ , my pride and joy. 

Vision is, in all honesty, seeing and the act of seeing, but it's all in the perspective. At the beginning of the series, Laurens is seeing though a civilian lens, not quite understanding everything. He's only seen a certain part. 

When Laurens becomes a soldier, he sees through a whole new lens. The Fighter Lens. His perspective changes. 

When Laurens finds Lewis (Luis), he sees through the eyes of this orphan kid who had no reason to be in a warzone but was dragged in anyway, and he sees through a different civilian lens. 

When Laurens starts to love Hamilton, he sees through the Lover Lens, which gives him a whole new reason and motivation to fight. A reason to live. He has something to protect and return to, and it changes how he sees things. 

When Tilghman leaves and everything goes bleak and seemingly colorless, Laurens realizes how one person and their own outlook and perspective can affect so many others. He realizes that they're all so important. They all have purpose to someone else. 

When Laurens nearly dies, he literally loses a piece of his vision. He sees this family and knows that they're calling to him and it's hurtful because he knows that he can't get them back if he lives, and the temptation to return to them could overweigh the want to stay alive. He sees this family and friends while he's "dying" and he resists, but he loses them because of it. He loses that chance to see them again and to have them in his "life" again. He wakes up with a piece of his vision lost. 

The scramble with Gates and Co. is made to feel like a metaphor of how things are tearing apart. America is falling apart from the inside and everything else is subtly falling apart as well, but it ceases, the opposing party surrenders, and all is well. 

When Laurens goes home and sees old friends again, he regains his vision and reason for living. He's home, he has purpose, and his glasses signify that he can see it again. 

White represents an emotional beacon for John, and when he's around, things are more stable for them. White is stability. He's there to keep John on a good path and keep his dreams within sight. 

Tilghman is essentially meant to represent memories. He's obsessed with 80s music, pudding, old technology, photos, and pens, and he is the reminder of your past and how it affects your vision today. He is there to remind you why you should keep going. He's a reason to push forward. He's someone to uplift. He is Good Memories. 

Tallmadge is the psychological side of it all. He's smart, he attended Yale, he runs the spies, and he's there for Laurens to vent to. He knows how to positively affect Laurens and he may not be prominent, but he's there. 

La Fayette and André are the left and right brain. If you look at how eyes function, the left brain controls the right and the right controls the left. The paths cross. They work together and form one piece that collaborates to get a job done. They're partners and they represent the two hemispheres of the brain, working together to help you. To show you things. To lead you. 

Lee is not very prominent but he and Spada are a distant reminder to keep going. A little smile from a co-worker or a hello from a stranger the a street. Little nudges to push you in the right direction. Little reminders. 

Henry Laurens is negativity incarnate, but it can be good in the end because you need bad in life to find the right path and your vision. 

Washington is only described by me as the ringleader. He shows you the right way the entire time. He continuously leads, even when the scenario is grim. 

The other aides can't be described by me, in all honesty. They're amazing and still essential to the story, but I cannot find a way to explain them. 

Thus, I shall end now. If you think I missed anything, please tell me and I'll edit it. 

Also!!! As I go through Vision and edit it, I will be adding and possibly removing scenes, so you may want to keep up with how things change in the story! 

That's all for now. 

Love you! 

—Jack


End file.
